True to You
by DuchessRaven
Summary: When Alucard reverts back to his 13yearold self and have no memory of Hellsing, Integra must care for him until a cure can be found. But even in this state, he risks himself for her. AxI. Better summary and info inside. COMPLETE
1. Chapter 1

**A NOTE FIRST:** a little background information is in order. Don't worry, the spoiler-ing is minimal. In book eight, there is a scene where Alucard has a flashback to when he's little, a small kid with dark hair (consistent with when Count Dracula was imprisoned in the Turkish Sultan's castle at 13), he was abused terribly. Radu is Vlad Dracula's younger brother. They were both imprisoned. Also, at that age, he was Catholic (as is said in the manga). Basically, something happens and he reverts back to this form, thinking he's still 13, it's 1444, and that he's imprisoned by the Sultan. The only person who can be trusted to take care of him (who else?) is Integra. Yes, this is AxI. No, it's not pedophiliac. R&R please!

CHAPTER 1

The first thing he was aware of upon waking was darkness. For several minutes he thought he hadn't opened his eyes, but then he blinked and realized that they'd been open all along, it was just very dark where he was.

_I'm dead_, he thought.

But that wasn't true, was it? He flexed his fingers. They were still there, all ten of them. Then he wiggled his toes. They were there, too. Dead people can't feel their fingers and toes. But still, wherever he was sleeping, it was awfully stuffy.

"Radu?" he called, barely above a whisper. If the Sultan was near, he would be angry if he were disturbed. Still, maybe he was in this stuffy place in the first place because he'd upset the Sultan. He couldn't remember.

The material beneath him was soft and comfortable, but not comforting. After all, the Sultan's bed was supposed to be comfortable, too. The thought made him gag. He fought it back and tried to sit up, but was greeted by a soft "bonk", indicating he'd knocked his head against something. He rubbed it. Didn't hurt. But…

Timidly, he reached upward with both hands and felt his palm touch a smooth surface. It was vast and long, and he could feel no end to it. It covered him, enshrouded him, resting on top of him like a

Coffin lid.

"Radu?" he cried out, louder this time. "RADU!"

In panic, he pushed upward with all his strength, not expecting the heavy object to budge. His head filled with nightmarish thought of what would happen if on the other side was six feet of earth. Shock and relief flooded through him as it went flying, flipping over and landing with a thunderous crash.

He sat up.

The room was made of stone, from the floor to the walls to the ceiling. Perhaps he was left for dead after all in a rock tomb? No, that can't be it. He saw a table not very far away, and a chair, and a shelf with a few old books on it and a half-empty bottle of red wine. The thought didn't occur to him that he could see clearly without any light.

His gaze fell on the heavy object he had pushed off of himself. A coffin lid. A real coffin lid. He looked down and saw the silky material he sat on lining a large wooden case, definitely shaped to fit a human, though one much larger than himself.

A shiver ran down his spine and he crawled out as quickly as he could manage, falling on all fours on the cold floor. He felt around carefully. Definitely stone. Though rooms like this weren't uncommon in the Sultan's dungeons, and Lord knows he'd been locked away in enough of them to know, this one was different. He hadn't been here before. Still, this must be the Sultan's palace.

_What did I do this time?_

Try as he did he couldn't recall, so he stood, dusted himself off, and looked around. The room was clean and had a strange sense of occupancy even though everything looks like it's fallen apart from disuse.

"Radu?" he called again, though softly because it was quite obvious his brother wasn't in the room.

There was only one door out the room, and from the looks of it he doubted he could open it. It was huge, and constructed of a shiny medium he had never seen before. Nevertheless, he gripped the handle and pulled, and like the lid of the coffin, it moved easily. This was encouraging. As he peeked out, he wondered maybe if he wasn't meant to be locked up after all.

The hall before him was long and silent. Rolls of identical doors lined each side, standing like soldiers. Beside some of them were strange boxes protruding from the wall, lined with buttons printed with single-digit numbers. Perhaps they were prison cells. A strange which light washed over him. He looked up to see he oddest contraptions embedded in the ceiling, emitting light, but without fire. Unable to figure out what sort of Turkish sorcery this was, he decided it was better to ignore it.

He went to the door right next to his room. This one didn't look as heavy. He knocked on it and called his brother's name. Nothing. He tried the next one, still nothing.

In this manner, he went down the hall, knocking on each door and glancing up occasionally at the strange white illumination instruments in the ceiling. Suddenly a thought occurred to him and he clutched quickly at his chest. The cross hanging around his neck sent a wave of encouragement through his body as his hand closed around it.

"Oh Lord Father," he whispered, kissing the cross, "give me strength."

The eleventh door he came to was constructed like the one he had emerged from, cold and shiny and looked as if it weighed a ton. Unlike the rest of the place, it gave him a familiar feeling. He kisses the cross again before pushing the door open.

His blood chilled as his eyes landed on another coffin, this one smaller but no less menacing. Before he could turn and bolt, its lid moved, then lifted. A figure rose from within. It was a woman, dressed only in a large shirt with writings he couldn't read. She ran a hand through her hair, and looked straight at him.

Her eyes glowed, red as fresh blood.

"Who's there?" she asked sleepily and yawned, just wide enough for him to see the sharp canines protruding from her mouth.

"Master?" she said. "Is that…"

He ran, stumbling as he did, half-crawling when he couldn't get up fast enough. A monster! There was a monster in the Sultan's palace!

In his mad scramble he tripped on a flight of stairs, falling forward hard enough to knock out a few teeth. None fell out though, and he didn't stop to wonder why. He climbed the stairs as quickly as he could and pushed open the nearest door as soon as he reached the top and kept running.

The world had gone mad.

Everything he saw was strange. The floors and walls of this place, which he has now established not to be the Sultan's palace, were polished in the strangest way. The fixtures of the rooms looked like they were of another world. Several times he saw men coming down the long, clean, illuminated halls and quickly hid. Their clothes, demeanor, and actions were all beyond alien to him. And more over, his brother wasn't anywhere to be found.

"Oh heavenly Father," he whispered through trembling words, holding the cross tightly, "never have I…"

"Hey!"

He spun around. A man was coming towards him. He was dressed in tan colors, and wore a patch over one of his eyes. His long hair, braided to the tip, was a shade of sunset red he had never seen before. Without a second thought he ran down the nearest corridor.

"Hey kid!" the man shouted after him. "You can't be in here!"

He climbed more stairs, kept heading upward. Some of the halls were lined with large windows, and the bright sunlight shining in made his eyes water terribly. He rubbed them and kept running.

Finally, in a shaded corner, he stopped to rest, the cross still clutched tightly in his hand. He brought it to his lips again.

And stopped.

It was stained red, as were his hands. He felt his throat constrict as he touched his face again. His fingers came away with spots of blood. His face was covered with it. It ran from his eyes in rivers.

"Oh God…"

His body shook violently. He couldn't stop it. The cross fell from his hand and dangled at his chest as he raised both hands to eyelevel. Red. They were red. Red from the blood flowing out of his eyes.

It was then that he noticed the man standing not more than ten feet away. He didn't know how the man had managed to sneak up on him, but by the time he scrambled to run again it was too late. A strong hand seized his arm. A sense of doom washed over him.

"Hey now," a gentle voice said. "How did you get in here, little guy?"

He didn't dare look up. If this man were a personal servant of the Sultan, meeting his eye would result in punishment for disrespect.

"Where'd you come from?"

He kept his head down. The hand on his arm loosened a bit.

"You don't have to be scared," the man said. "I'm Walter, what's your name?"

Slowly, timidly, he raised his eyes to look at the man. He looked perhaps fifty or sixty, though he may be older, it was hard to tell. He was dressed in dark, form-fitting clothes that was, again, strange to him. His hair was peppered with grey and tied back in an odd fashion. On his nose rested a strange device made of wires and a pair of round glass pieces.

As he looked at him, the man's expression changed. This raised alarm in him immediately.

"Please don't punish me," he begged, getting to his knees. "I didn't mean to…" _what didn't he mean to do? _He had no idea.

The man kept staring at him.

"Don't tell the Sultan," he continued, red tears streaking down his cheeks. "He'll beat me, he'll…"

The man said a word, but he didn't understand. He had no idea what an "Alucard" was.

oOo

The man named Walter seemed to have no intention of punishing him, or even taking him to the Sultan, from this he can only conclude that he didn't work for the Sultan or wasn't faithful to him in some way. Instead, he took him to a room that was lined with white lines and smelled like lilacs, gathered water in a white basin, and washed his face with a wet towel.

But this didn't mean he was safe from danger, a fact he was well-aware of as he stood there and allowed himself to be washed, clutching the cross to keep from losing courage and running away.

After a while Walter put the towel away and just stood there, studying him, as if at a loss for words.

Finally, he said, "you better not be yanking my chain."

He had no idea what that meant and kept silent.

"OK," Walter said, crossing his arms. "What do you think Integra's going to say when she finds out about this little prank of yours?"

He didn't know who Integra was either.

"You don't want her to lock you back in the dungeons again, do you?"

The image of the coffin appeared in his mind, followed by the red-eyed woman. With a hard sob he fell to his knees again before Walter.

"No! Don't put me back there," he cried. "There's a monster down there! She has red eyes… please!"

For a moment Walter did not respond.

"I'm dying." He wiped his eyes and held his red-stained hands to Walter. "There's blood coming from my eyes…I just want to see my brother. Please…"

Walter sighed and rubbed his temples. "You can't be serious," he said.

"My brother, one last time, please!"

With a firm but kind hand, Walter lifted him to his feet. "Alright," he said. "Say I believe you. Let's go see if we can straighten this out."

He wiped his face. "Are you taking me to Radu now?"

The old man blinked at the name in surprise. "We'll see," he said, and took his hand.

They went out of the washroom, down the hall, and up another flight of stairs. There were only a few rooms on this floor, each with large, strong doors painted a magnificent white. Walter stood before one of them and knocked.

"Enter," came an authoritative voice from inside. He shivered and was suddenly afraid.

Walter pushed open the door, tugging at his hand as he hesitated. "Come on," he said. "It's OK."

"Who's that with you, Walter?"

"Sorry to disturb you, Sir Integra," said Walter.

He allowed himself to be pulled inside. This room was as strange as the rest. It was large, and the only furnishing inside was a large desk, a strange-looking chair, and shelves lined with books and notes. Behind the desk, in the chair, sat a man with long hair, blond and bright as brilliant silver. Between his lips was something he assumed to be a tobacco pipe, since it was smoking. But…

The man looked at him with shiny blue eyes. "Who's the kid?"

Walter chuckled. "Perhaps you'd like to look a bit closer."

"Sir Integra" stood, circled around the desk, and came up to him. He was tall, slim, and had very fair features. He wore a dark ensemble, and a cross was fastened to his collar. This was comforting. For a moment he wondered if perhaps Integra was a woman, the way his body was shaped, with obvious curves.

But a woman in pants? Impossible…

Integra approached him and lifted his chin with one gloved hand. He gazed into his eyes and sneered, making him feel uneasy.

"You're kidding, right?"

"No, I am not," Walter replied. "I don't think he is either."

"Why is he in this form?"

"If he'd indeed serious, then I think something tempered with his memory, I just don't know what. He seems to think this is his natural form, and that he hasn't been anything but."

Integra looked at him again. "Let's see then," he said. Then, addressing him directly, "How old are you?"

"I'm thirteen," he answered in a small voice. Integra raised an eyebrow. Walter made a soft sound of surprise.

"And what's your name?"

"Vlad."

TBC


	2. Chapter 2

AUTHOR'S NOTE: I'm glad everyone likes this story. Yay! This is one of my fav ideas ever. Now I must confess that I LOVE getting reviews. It really helps me know if I'm writing well or if I'm missing something. Also, I hate proof-reading so sorry for the spelling errors. Anyway, if you read regularly and don't leave reviews… please do. I'll love you long time. Isn't Little Vlad/Alucard so CUTE? I think he is. He's so cuddly and snuggly and cute and… ahem, on to the story

Chapter 2

Integra chewed on the end of her cigar and peeked into her office again. She and Walter stood just outside it, leaving Vlad/Alucard alone inside.

This was as baffling as it came, and from the look on his face, she could tell Walter thought the same. Instead of sitting in her chair, or on her desk as he sometimes did, Alucard found the nearest corner and huddled in it, hiding from the sun though she was quite sure he wasn't aware of doing it.

He was small. Though claiming to be thirteen, he looked no more than ten. His hair was dark as coal and messy, hanging just past his shoulder in a tangled bunch. The clothing he wore was soot-colored and little more than threadbare rags. He was thin but not scrawny, and his eyes were still red. But there was no light in them. This child who called himself Vlad, once her tall, arrogant, red-clad servant, was obvious battered in both body and spirit.

And judging from Walter's recount of their encounter, he was also unaware that he was undead.

"He thought he was dying because his tears were red," the butler said. Integra nodded.

"How long has he been like this?"

"He left on mission two days ago. We expected him back yesterday evening, but no one saw him come in, which wasn't unusual. This morning Captain Bernadette came to me, clamoring that there was a child running lose in the mansion."

"And you found him like this?"

"Had to sneak up on him." Walter glanced at the child inside the office, who was now clutching the cross hanging from his neck and appears to be praying. "I don't think he even realizes what kind of powers he has, or he would've used them on me when I found him."

"He's looking for Radu, you said?"

"That is correct. If I recall correctly, when he was at this age, in the 1400s, Radu was his brother."

"Long dead then."

"Yes."

"But he doesn't seem to think so."

"No."

"Where'd he get that cross?"

"I think it's part of his physical manifestation, just like how he creates his clothing. It must've been something important to him from back then. His skin is also warm. He definitely thinks he's alive."

Integra played with her cigar thoughtfully. "Research the family archives immediately," she said. "Find out whatever you can about his past, at age thirteen. Perhaps it will give us some clue as to how to snap him out of this. Maybe some hidden memory shocked him." She paused. "Has this happened before? Prior to my birth, perhaps?"

Walter shook his head. "Not like that. Fifty years ago, when we worked in tandem, he took on a form similar to this: petite and light like a child. But that wasn't the same. He was still Alucard, just in a smaller body. This here…" he gestured at the office "… is Vlad Dracula, in his childhood. Before he sold his soul to become a vampire. It's like putting the kid from the fifteenth century in a time machine and shipping him straight here."

"But he is still a vampire, and the most powerful one in the world at that."

"He doesn't know that."

"So what do we do in the mean time?"

"We'll think of something." Walter bowed. "I will go begin the research now. Perhaps we can have this resolved by sundown."

Integra nodded. A thought occurred to her as Walter turned to leave. "Send the police girl up here," she said.

"Do you really think that's a good idea? I think he had already seen her. He called her a monster with red eyes."

"It'll be fine. I think she can be helpful in this case." Integra blew smoke into the air, not taking her eyes off the boy. "Perhaps her mental connection to him will help kickstart the recovery process."

From the look on his face, it seemed like Walter had his doubts. But he went anyway. She knew that he didn't have a better idea. After he was out of sight, Integra went into her office.

Alucard… no, Vlad, was sitting on the floor, praying with his eyes closed. The sound of her footsteps made his eyes snap open. He scrambled to his feet and kept his eyes down. As she studied him, Integra realized this was going to be harder than she thought.

"Alu… Vlad," she said, "tell me, where do you think you are right now?"

He blinked at the question as she moved behind the desk and sat in her chair. He stood on the other side, hands behind his back like a bad child awaiting punishment.

"The Sultan's palace," he whispered after a while. "Where father left me, and Radu. We're supposed to stay here until father comes for us."

Since her education had been focused on vampires in general rather than Dracula himself, Integra didn't know if this was true or not. "Are you prisoners?" she asked.

"I don't know," Vlad replied. Then he raised his head and for the first time looked her in the eyes willingly. "Have I been sold here?" he asked earnestly. "Did the Sultan sell us? Is Radu here, too?"

Integra rolled this over in her head. She was at a loss for words. How was she to explain to this child what he truly was, where he truly was, and what had transpired in the past five centuries? He'd never understand. In the worst possible case, if he's really in the mindset of a thirteen-year-old, the shock would destroy his mind, and from the looks of him, he'd been through enough as it was.

"Yes," she replied. "You've been sold here. But your brother had stayed behind."

Vlad/Alucard bit his lip but said nothing.

"You are a servant of this house, and are not to leave its vicinities." That was close enough to the truth.

"Yes, sir."

They fell silent. Vlad just stood there, as if waiting for an order. Under normal circumstances, this would've been nothing out of the ordinary, but Integra had no idea what to do or say to this boy before her. She rubbed her temples and was relieved when a knock came from outside.

"Come in."

Seras entered. She was dressed in full uniform but looked rather sleepy and unkempt. It was early afternoon, after all. Rubbing her eyes, she closed the door behind her. "You called, Miss Integra?" She looked around. "Who's this?"

Before Integra could reply, Vlad spun around and, seeing Seras, stumbled as if to run and fell to the floor. He scooted as far away from Seras as he could manage, until his back struck Integra's desk. Seras blinked.

"What's wrong?" She took a step forward and reached down to help him up. Vlad cried out and held out his cross towards her as far as the chain would allow.

"God in heaven," he said through trembling lips, "strike down this heathen demon… never have I asked…"

Integra stood, quickly raising a hand to stop Seras just she was about to take another step forward. "Stay where you are, police girl," she snapped. Seras stopped, but from the look on her face Integra knew she had already noticed the boy's red eyes.

"Miss Integra…"

"Just step back." Quickly, Integra rounded the desk and knelt beside the shaky boy. She placed her arms around his shoulder and pulled him close to her. His surprise seemed to distract him from the Seras momentarily. She held him tightly until he calmed down, then turned to the police girl.

"Is that boy a vampire?" Seras asked incredulously. "What's he doing here?" Her eyes lit up suddenly. "Oh, are we taking in another vampire recruit?"

"No, police girl." Integra stroke Vlad's hair. "Don't you recognize your own master?"

Disbelief and shock played on Seras' face. Integra waited for her to come to terms with the fact. The police girl's jaw dropped, revealing her pearly white fangs.

"Master Alucard?" she exclaimed, staring at the boy in Integra's arms. "How… what happened? What's wrong with him?"

"I was hoping you can tell _me_." Integra gestured to Seras to come down to the floor beside her. Vlad twitched. "It's alright, she's not dangerous." Then, to Seras: "use your connection to him, dig in his head a little find out what made him this way."

Looking at the boy, Seras hesitated, but closed her eyes and did as she was told. Integra waited patiently. Fifteen minutes passed before the police girl opened her eyes again.

"This is strange," she said. "Most of his mind is closed off to me."

"What do you mean most of it?"

"I mean he's sealed off his memories. All of them except for his first thirteen years of life. I can't see those very clearly except that they weren't very good memories."

"Did he do this voluntarily?"

"Maybe. Or something triggered it. I can't tell." She blushed. "I'm sorry."

Integra waved her off. "Forget it. You can go back to bed."

"What about master?"

The question gave Integra a loss for words. What _about_ him? Walter was busy researching, Seras would now have to pull double duty with Alucard out of commission. That left the troops, the house staff, and a few researchers, none of which can be trusted to take care of a No-Life King in a child's body.

That left one person, though she hated to admit it.

"I'll take care of him," Integra replied, then added, "for now."

Seras wore a worried look on her face as she left the office. Integra sighed and suddenly realized she was still holding her servant in her arms. He was calm as he watched Seras leave, leaning against the master he no longer recognizes. The placid look on his face was foreign to Integra, who was used to his sneers, smirks, and cold glares right before he tore an enemy apart. But now… it was so different. He was a child. The innocence in his eyes was one he'd lost long ago and theoretically could not be reclaimed.

She rocked him in her arms. It was a strange, new feeling.

oOo

Vlad wasn't sure what kind of conclusion to draw about Sir Integra.

So far, he seemed kind enough. After all, he did make the red-eyed creature go away. But the unnerving part was that he also seemed to have some sort of connection to it. No, her. The creature, no matter what it was, was female. That part was evident. Though still young and barely beginning to learn the beauties of the female form, Vlad could easily identify the woman's round legs and large curves. This, too, made him curious. Why was a woman allowed to dress as such?

He wondered briefly whether Sir Integra kept the creature for some more carnal purpose. But as he leaned in the man's protective embrace, he wondered once more whether the softness underneath his clothes was just padding.

Integra stood, and helped him to his feet.

"You needn't worry about Seras," he said. "She won't hurt you. She is a servant of this house like you are."

Vlad nodded. This was strange, but he had no choice but to accept it. Besides, there were enough strange things around him that this really wasn't that out of place.

Integra tapped his chin with one gloved hand. "So," he said after a moment, "are you hungry?"

He was. He hadn't realized it until that moment but it's been quite a while since he woke from the coffin and all that panicked running had been tiring. He nodded, but was uncertain whether that was the right thing to do.

Integra turned on his heels and gestured for him to follow. Vlad did, shadowing the man closely.

They went down two flights of stairs and into an area in the enormous estate that he could only assume to be a kitchen. But was it? He saw no place to light a fire. There were a few items on a polished counter that he assumed were pots and pans, though they looked awfully thin and strangely shiny. There was a table and chairs, and glasses in the oddest shapes. He couldn't see any food around. Where are the bags of potatoes and strings for hanging dried meats?

"Have a seat," Integra told him. He did, in one of the chairs by the table, which he ran a hand over, surprised at its smoothness.

With utmost curiosity, he watched Integra approach a large white box with a thick door that opened with handles. It was so tall, even taller than Integra, who opened it with ease and looked through it. He reached in, pulled out a red apple, and looked at Vlad, who was relieved that at least it was food he recognized.

The apple went back into the white box. Integra flipped through the items some more (most of which Vlad knew, though a few were in transparent containers that he couldn't quite see through) and pulled out a small red pouch. Upon closer inspection, he saw that the pouch itself was soft and transparent. It was filled with red liquid. On one a single strip stuck out, also transparent.

Integra closed the box and looked at Vlad again, as if hesitating. Then he held the pouch out for him to see.

"Do you know what this is?" he asked.

Vlad shook his head.

Integra seemed to maul this over and for a second Vlad thought he'd answered wrong. But Integra merely shrugged.

"Alright then," he said, and set it aside. From a tall cupboard he retrieved a bowl. Then, with two fingers, he broke the strip on the pouch and let the red liquid flow into the bowl. A tantalizing smell filled the room. Vlad couldn't quite place it, but it smelled delicious.

Integra placed the full bowl into another, smaller container. He pushed some markings on its surface and the container hummed to life. Vlad watched in surprise as a counter appeared and counted down from 10 to 0 automatically. Was it sorcery again? Like those illuminating instruments? He didn't know.

Integra removed the bowl, dropped a silvery spoon in it, and set it in front of him.

"Go on," he said. "Try it."

He stirred the liquid. It was warm and thick. Maybe it was tomato soup. But was tomato soup supposed to have such a dark coloring?... and smell vaguely like meat?

He put a spoonful into his mouth. It was wonderful, flowing over his tongue and down his throat. Vlad dug in, spoonful after spoonful. Integra was smiling.

"Is it good?"

He nodded quickly. "Yes, sir."

Integra watched him eat. "Keep in mind that while you're here, that is the only thing you are allowed to eat. If you feel hungry, find Walter. If he isn't around, find me. You are not to look for food on your own within the mansion, understood?"

Taking the order at face value, Vlad nodded again. As the son of a prince, he knew every house of the elite had its rules. This one wasn't all that unusual. As he ate, Integra moved to the chair across from him and removed his jacket. Vlad nearly dropped his spoon.

Beneath the jacket, Integra wore a form-fitting blouse. And beneath that, undeniably, were…

He swallowed thickly and turned back to his bowl, trying not to let his surprise show. Integra was indeed a woman. How could he have missed it? He should've noticed the curves of her hips and long fingers, and the smooth skin on her neck.

Neck?

He wasn't sure why he noticed, but he did. She had a lovely neck.

Judging by the actions of the others, Sir Integra was the head of the house without a doubt. But a woman as a family head? Where he came from this was unheard of. Women were chattel property and had roles only in been a wife, a mother, and a servant. A woman in man's attire, called "Sir" by others, and obviously in a position of power…

It was kind of attractive. Strange, but attractive.

He thought on this for a moment.

"Sir Integra?"

"Yes?"

"Where am I?"

Integra seemed surprised by the question. "What do you mean?"

"I mean… am I still in Turkey? I was in that coffin, and I don't know how far I was brought. Did I come by sea?"

Integra chuckled. "Well," she said. "Something of the sort I guess you can say. This is England."

"England." Vlad let the idea sink in. "Is that why everything is… so different?"

There was a pause. "Yes," Integra said. "We live differently than the people in your country. You can almost say we live in different times."

That answered some questions. Vlad hadn't been to many lands in his short life. This one may be out of sorts with what he was used to, but people were still people. Sir Integra was human, as was Walter. He wasn't sure about the one they called Seras, but that wasn't important for now. He went back to his food. The most important thing was to live long enough to see him father and brother again.

"Stay here," Integra said. "I'll be right back."

TBC


	3. Chapter 3

NOTE: Yay! People like this story! Someone kindly brought up the characterization of Vlad at this age. Now I did do some homework and have thought long and hard about this before beginning the story. Yes, at age 13 Vlad was nearly a young man, especially in that day and age. However, this did not seem the case in the manga. In Alucard's memory, at the time he was kept by the Sultan, he looked very young, very much like a child. When I saw him, I thought he was 8 or 9, not 13. So after much deliberation, and in the interest of "cuteness", I have chosen to portray him as more childish. Also, I really wanted to write Integra as a little "motherly" in this. If Vlad acted like a young man, he might… well, look at more than just her neck.

In other words, enjoy the story and take it at face value. R&R 

Chapter 3

Walter was standing just outside the kitchen, out of Vlad/Alucard's view. Integra came out and took care to be out of Vlad's earshot.

"I ran into Miss Victoria," the butler said, pushing his glasses up on his nose. "She told me your experiment didn't quite pan out."

Integra nodded in agreement. "Not as well as I'd hoped. Did she tell you what she found out?"

"Yes. He seems to be stuck in the thirteenth year of life, and blocked out the rest, correct?"

"Something of the sort. She also said this was not exactly the prime of his life."

"Understandably. He was under the Sultan's imprisonment."

"How long will it take to find a cure?"

"Hard to say."

Integra glanced into the kitchen. Vlad had finished the blood she heated up for him. From the way he ate it, she was quite sure he didn't know what he was eating. But at the very least, in this form he seems content to follow orders without questions or snippy remarks, an area Alucard usually had trouble with.

"What do we do in the mean time?"

A small smirk appeared on Walter's face. It was almost smug. "That's what I came to talk to you about," he said. "The police girl informed me that you intent on taking care of him for the time been."

Integra raised an eyebrow. "Are you saying I can't do it?"

"Mothering isn't in your nature, Integra. While you make a fine leader of Hellsing, you have no experience when it comes to children."

"I deal with Enrico Maxwell plenty."

"_Small_ children."

"Have some faith in me, Walter." Integra gestured at Vlad. "I doubt he can be even more of a child than Alucard."

"True."

"But we have bigger problem than that. He can't stay in this form for long without the household staff noticing. It's an even bigger problem that his eyes are still red and fangs sharp. Should his vampiric instincts take hold, we don't know what he might do. This is in addition to the fact that we cannot let the world know that Hellsing's ace card is out of commission for an indefinite amount of time."

"I have a suggestion," said the butler. "Not the best, but the best I could think of. Since no one saw Alucard return from his mission, we'll inform the household staff and troops, should it come up, that he'd been sent on a special mission and will be absent for the time been. As far as the child goes, he is another fledgling Alucard had picked up, as he did Miss Victoria. We'll say he took pity because the child was dying. But his health is questionable and is having trouble adjusting to his new life, so we are keeping him under close surveillance for the time been."

"When we find the cure, we declare that the child was terribly ill and had to be 'dealt with in a proper manner'." Integra nodded in understanding. "No one will question the mercy killing of a diseased vampire."

"Precisely."

Integra sighed. "I suppose that will have to do. We have no other explanation for his presence."

"At least he won't ever realize he has red eyes if no one points it out."

"No reflection. Which is another problem. We'll need to keep him away from mirrors. Though he may notice the fangs eventually."

"I think he's retracted them for the moment," Walter said. "The color of his eyes he can't change without some effort, and since he's not aware of it now, he has no reason to exert that effort. We must take care to spread this story of him just right."

"I'll take care of it."

"Then I will leave you to him." The look on the butler's face annoyed Integra somewhat. She could tell he found the idea of her playing guardian to the young Vlad amusing. "But I did realize something earlier that I thought may be of interest to you."

"Oh?"

"I don't think Alucard is completely lost to the present. At least not completely lost to us. After all, he is speaking English."

"Why is that important?"

"At age thirteen, Vlad Dracula only spoke Danish."

oOo

When Integra returned to the kitchen, Vlad was dozing, his head resting on nest made by his arms on the table. His forehead was wrinkled in a slight frown and she wondered if he was dreaming of something unpleasant. Of course, it could also be the sunlight in the room. Though he was temporarily unaware of it, he was still a vampire, and considering the time of day, he should be slumbering away in his coffin.

Integra approached him and tapped him on the shoulder. Vlad quickly awakened, rubbing his eyes with both hands. She couldn't help but crack a small smile.

"I know you're tired," she said to him. "Can you find your way back to the dungeons?"

The immediate horror on his face told her that she had said something wrong. She mentally berated herself or not thinking this through.

"Back to… the coffin?" he asked her, paling even more than he already was. "Am I to sleep in the coffin, Sir?"

"No," Integra said, shaking her head and wishing she had a cigar. "Of course not." Looking at the boy, she struggled to think of a solution. Of course he doesn't want to sleep in a coffin. He doesn't know what he was. But where could he sleep? Where could he sleep so that no housemaids would stumble upon him before they've been properly briefed? Where could he go that no member of the Wild Geese could accidentally walk in, see his red eyes, and pump him full of bullets?

There was only one place, and though Alucard himself had never been allowed inside it, Integra thought there was no other choice. After all, the boy in front of her right now could barely speak up when spoken to, so it's unlikely that he'd riff through her undergarments.

"Come on," she said. Vlad followed.

She led him upstairs to her bedroom, taking care to make sure no one noticed them. The only person who cleans her room is Walter, who systematically checks for potential bugs, traps, and signs of intrusion every day. There was also a highly sophisticated security system that had to be disabled by either her or Walter personally upon entry. Of course this wouldn't have stopped Alucard if he really wanted to enter, but her regular threats of injecting quicksilver into his brain kept him at bay.

She laid her hand on the keypad just outside the door, and glanced back at Vlad, briefly wondering once more if Alucard was just playing a prank long enough for her to lead him to her bedroom. But the boy stood behind her silently, even appearing to hesitate. The look in his eyes was one of anxiety and paranoia. Integra reminded herself that this was indeed not the Alucard she knew.

She entered the code and pushed open the door. Her chambers were simply furnished, with a dresser, a vanity, and her large old canopy bed. Thick curtains hung from the windows. Next to the bed was a nightstand with a hidden button that, when pushed a certain way, released a secret compartment containing a pistol loaded with silver bullets.

Vlad, who was looking at the room in awe, didn't need to know that.

"You will sleep in here for now," Integra told him. He looked at her in surprise. "No one will bother you in here. When you wake up, my office is two doors down. Come find me."

Vlad seemed unconvinced. "Yes, sir," he said. "So I am to sleep on the floor… right?"

Integra blinked at this. "On the bed," she told him. "Just leave yours shoes on the floor." She nodded toward the bed. "Go on."

Though obviously tired, Vlad moved carefully, glancing back at her every few steps. _It's like he's waiting to be punished_, Integra thought as she watched the boy removed his shoes and climb onto the bed, falling asleep before his head even hit the pillows.

She watched him sleep, still half-expecting him to return to his old form any moment the moment he thought he was alone. Twenty minutes later, he still slept, his chest rising and falling though he had no breath to fill his lungs. He truly thinks he's alive, Integra realized. Every fiber of his being thinks it's still alive and is imitating life in every way possible.

She closed the door and left the boy to his slumber.

oOo

Seras sat on top of a crate of ammunition, elbow rested on her knee and head propped up by her hand. She yawned as she watched the Wild Geese train in the twilight. The sun had just gone down, but for a vampire, it was like a human rising just after dawn—too early.

She had gone back to bed, but couldn't sleep well. Her mind felt strange, as if hanging on a loose thread. Usually the connection she shared with her master gave her a mental stability. It was comforting to know he was always there. But now, in his current state, he seems to have forgotten all about her. She cringed at the memory of the look on his face when he saw her. How long was this going to last?

And Miss Integra, who is trying to care for him at this very moment, wasn't exactly the most nurturing person in the world. Seras was quite certain that if handed a baby, Integra would probably try to hold it like a shotgun. Granted Alucard was in the form of a preteen boy rather than a baby, he was still in a fragile state and needed careful attention that she just wasn't sure Integra had the time or patience to provide.

She _did_ know to hold him when he was scared, but most women knew to that to a child.

Still…

A spider dangled in front of her by one leg. Its seven other appendages flailed about an inch from her nose.

With a shriek, she leaned backwards and fell off the crate, giving Pip a momentary glimpse of her underwear.

"All that power and a third eye and she's still scared of spiders," said the Wild Geese commander, flicking the spider aside as Seras struggled to get up. "What're you doing zoning out, police girl?"

"I'm not zoning out!" she snapped at him, pulling herself off the ground and back onto the crate. "I didn't sleep well."

"No wonder you're up so early." Pip rested a foot on the crate beside her and leaned on it. She wondered whether he was getting into a better position to look at her chest. "Where's Tall, Red, and Ugly?"

"My _master_ is on a mission."

"Where at?"

"I'm…" she paused. Her first intention had been to say that she's not supposed to talk about it, but that would just make Pip press even more. "I don't know," she said instead.

"That big of a secret?"

"You can always ask Sir Integra."

"And talk to the Ice Queen one-on-one?" Pip scoffed. "No way. That woman is scary. I wouldn't go within ten yards of her without a loaded weapon."

"She's not that bad."

"That's because you're a woman. I think she has it out for men or something." He got off the crate and stretched, keep his eye on his men, who were busy with their maneuvers. "Which is too bad for that master of yours."

Seras raised her head. "Why do you say that?"

"You'd have to be dim not to see it," Pip said, as if taking pride in the matter. "The way he looks at her… follows her around… teases her… he's got it for her bad."

"That's not enough evidence." Seras rolled her eyes. "Sounds pretty childish to me if that's what he's doing. Like pulling a girl's hair in third grade because you like her."

"Trust me, police girl." Pip lit a cigarette that he seemed to have pulled out of nowhere. "Men know what men want. Even when they're vampires, men are still men."

"Whatever you say." Seras leaned on her hand again, thinking that was the end of the conversation.

"Did you hear about that kid running around this morning?"

Seras felt her spine tense, but did not let it show. She nodded.

"Little thing, black hair. Any idea who that was? Security's pretty lacking around here if a little kid can just get in unnoticed."

She swallowed nervous, and thought of the story Walter had instructed her to give. "Master pick him up on a mission," she said, trying to sound casual. Anything she tells Pip would be fanned through his men like wildfire. "He was dying and master took pity on him."

"Alucard? Took pity on someone?" For a moment Seras worried the mercenary wasn't going to buy it, and was relieved when he said after a second of thinking, "I guess it's not impossible. He did the same for you after all." He sneered in amusement. "So there's another little vamp in the Hellsing house."

"We don't know for how long. I think he's ill. Also, he doesn't seem to understand that he's a vampire just yet. Miss Integra and Walter are keeping an eye on him. We're supposed to be careful about mentioning vampires if he's around."

"What about his parents?"

"They died." That was the truth.

"Pity." Pip muttered. "I got another question for you then."

"What is it?"

"You have any French in you?"

"No."

"Would you like to?"

Deep inside the Hellsing mansion's vast library, Walter looked up from the archives he'd been pouring over. He was pretty sure he just heard the sound of someone been slapped.

TBC


	4. Chapter 4

**AUTHOR'S NOTE**: Yay I am breaking personal records with this story (namely number of reviews per chapter). I love yall so much I'm gonna let you in on some secrets:

**Secret 1**: this story is actually completed (so no worries that it's gonna stop and not start back up) I'm just posting it a bit at a time so I can polish it as I go if I need to. I'm guessing it will run 10 chapters total.

**Secret 2**: well, no secret, but I obviously don't proof-read. Therefore, I don't get mad if people point out misspelling and grammar errors. Just keep in mind that I'm usually too lazy to correct them whether u point them out or not.

**Secret 3**: I can't do accents. Sorry. It turns out really weird when I try.

**Secret 4**: this is for specific people who reviewed. There WILL be more Vlad/Integra moments and it WILL be related to the "big deal" of the story. As for the big deal… well, if you read the external summary you should be able to guess… right?

**Secret 5**: I do get a LITTLE pissy if you call me "ignorant and untaught" WHILE you read my story. Why did I used Danish? Well, more so out of having read a lot of fanfic in which people say Alucard spoke a lot of Danish. I didn't even notice it still said Danish after I posted it. I considered changing it to Romanian before, but in the grand scheme of things, it really makes no difference. Also, does it matter that he's never seen the Sultan in person in real life? No, because in the memory of ALUCARD, he was raped by the Sultan and this is a story based on Hellsing, not actually history. I wrote this story as a way to amuse myself and thought it would be nice to share it with fellow fans. I didn't ask for a history lesson. Yes, when it comes to European history, I have never had a proper lesson in it, but do us both a favor and just enjoy the story for what it is.

Was that mean? I'm sorry… I just had my wisdom teeth out. Enjoy the story… Oh yea, in case it's confusing, Seras is NOT reading Integra's mind, just understanding her based on her words.

Chapter 4

When she sensed his presence, instinct kicked in and the first thing out of Integra's mouth was "Go away, Alucard."

But then the door to her office opened a sliver and small red eyes peeked inside. She rubber her temples and remembered her new duty. Quite a pain, considering how much paperwork she had to do, on top of having to meet with the Convention members tomorrow. Glancing at the grandfather clock in the corner of the room, she saw that it was nearly eight o'clock. Night had fallen.

"Yes, Vlad," she said, using a gentler tone. "Come in."

The boy entered, closing the door behind him. Integra made a mental note to have Walter get him some new clothes in the morning. The golden cross still hung from his neck. He looked much better now, rested and calm, but still nervous and unsure of himself. He approached her desk and stood a respectable distance away.

"Did you sleep well?"

"Yes, sir. Thank you."

Integra drummed her fingers on the desk, a lit cigar in the other. She took a long drag and tried to think of her next step.

So far Walter had turned up nothing useful and the family archives are vast. It could very well take days before they make headway. What could they do with Vlad in the mean time? Even though Integra herself had hardly ever gone to bed before midnight, she couldn't stay up all night keeping an eye on him. She was still human and couldn't function completely nocturnally. The house staff couldn't handle such a responsibility.

That left one person.

She stood. "Come with me," she told Vlad.

"Sir Hellsing?" Vlad said softly as he followed her.

"Yes?"

"May I ask a question?"

"Go ahead."

"Who is Alucard?"

Integra stopped. "Why do you ask?"

"It's just that you called me by that name when I came in. Mr. Walter did, too."

Integra rolled the question in her mind for a moment, considering how to answer. Finally, she said, "Alucard was…" she corrected herself quickly "…is a friend of ours. He also serves this house."

"Is he here, too?"

"Not at the moment." She reached out and moved a strand of hair from the boy's face. "You look a lot like him."

Vlad smiled. "I hope to meet him."

oOo

Seras helped the Wild Geese set their weapons in a neat line on the edge of the training field. The men were sweaty and tired, but excited. They were to take a half-hour break before running the maneuvers one last night before quitting for the night. A few of them chatted about going out on the town.

Pip scooted close to Seras, a visible bruise on his left cheek.

"So… you have any Irish in you?"

"Shut up, Pip," snapped the police girl, taking apart her Harkonnen.

"Don't be so cold. Everyone did well tonight." He smirked. "Even you didn't manage to shoot any hostages."

She spun around to say something nasty to him, but spotted the two figures approaching behind him. Pip took her sudden silence for a lack of words.

"Come on," he said. "Be nice. You're not like the Ice Queen."

Integra cleared her throat. Seras had to keep from laughing as Pip jumped nearly a foot into the air and moved out of her way half-scrambling. She pretended to cough to keep from chuckling out loud.

Integra took a drag on her cigar as the boy behind her peeked at the troops. A few of the men raised their eyebrows upon seeing his glowing eyes.

And speaking of Pip, he was scratching his head and bowing furiously. "Good evening, commander!" he chattered. "I didn't mean the Ice Queen was you. I mean I wasn't talking about you! I mean… I wasn't saying anything bad behind your back! I…"

Integra silenced him with a raised hand and addressed Seras. "How goes the training, police girl?"

"It's going well, Miss Integra." Seras gave a formal salute.

"Are the Geese well-prepared?"

_In other words, do they know about Vlad. _"Yes, sir."

"Good." With one hand on the boy's back, Integra nudged Vlad forward in front of the Geese. "This is your new ward, Commander Victoria."

Seras' eyes widened. "My new ward, sir?"

"I cannot care for him but for in the mornings and evenings, so at night I must entrust him to you. He is, after all, here to work." This last comment was for Vlad's benefit, Seras could see. "Have him aid you in weapons maintenance. Keep him out of trouble and the way of the house staff."

_Meaning don't let anyone unfamiliar with vampires see him_. Eyeing her disillusioned master, Seras felt her curiosity peaking. "I will do my best."

"Good." Integra turned. "Inform me if anything is needed."

_Let me know immediately if he does anything weird or goes out of control._ Seras saluted again as Integra headed back to the mansion, leaving the boy behind. As soon as she was out of site, the Wild Geese crowded around him in curiosity. She felt a twinge of pity at the look of horror and worry on the boy's face.

Smiling, she knelt down and looked up at Vlad. He clutched his cross tightly. "Hello there," she said. "We haven't been properly introduced. My named is Seras Victoria. You can call be Seras. What's your name?"

The boy eyed her suspiciously, but didn't back away, which was encouraging. "Vlad," he said.

"What kinda name is that?" Pip cut in. Seras scowled.

"Don't listen to him," she said to Vlad. "How about I show you how to clean the weapons?"

Vlad looked around. "Where are they?"

"Right there," Pip pointed at the pile of firearms.

"Those are weapons?"

Pip snorted. "Sheesh, what hole did that master of yours dig him up from, police girl?"

Seras raised a fist and brought it down on his foot. The men laughter in amusement as their captain hopped around in circles on his good foot. Seras was glad to see a small smile form on the boy's lips.

"Come on," she said, standing. "I'll show you over here."

She had an inkling that this wouldn't be too hard and she was right. Though he looked at the modern weaponry with confusion, Vlad hadn't completely lost the part of him that was Alucard, Hellsing's ace assassin. He watched closely as she disassembled a large rifle and cleaned each part, and then reassembled it.

"Got it?" she asked him.

One of the men scoffed. "You've got to be kidding. He's a kid. He can't do that after just seeing it once."

Seras smirked and gestured Vlad toward the pile of weapons. "Go ahead."

The boy hesitated, then moved. The Wild Geese watched with increasing shock as he picked up the largest rifle as if it weighed no more than a feather, took off each part neatly, cleaned it, and laid it aside. After it was done, he reassembled it, even faster than Seras did.

"Was that OK?" he asked her.

"Holy crap," Pip muttered. He clapped Vlad on the shoulder affectionately. "You're alright, kid." The rest of the men murmured, obviously impressed. Seras allowed a smug look to creep onto her own face.

The boy, a bit confused but happy to have done something right, grinned. For once, none of the humans cringed at the sight of a vampire's fangs. Seras had to admit, he was adorable.

"Since you're gonna be hanging with us," Pip said, unsheathing his own gun, "I gotta teach you how to shoot. You ever used one of these before?"

Staring at the weapon, Vlad shook him head with a look on his face that said he didn't know the pistol from a hole in the wall. Pip handed it to him. He promptly pointed its business end at his face and stared down the barrel.

Pip quickly corrected him. "Whoa there," he said with a grin. "You don't want it going off like that. But of course I guess it doesn't matter with the way you are…" Seras shot a killing glare at him. "Oh yea, not supposed to talk about that. Right." He pulled Vlad to his feet. "Come here, kid. I'm gonna show you a thing or two about been part of the Wild Geese."

The men chattered in amusement as their captain led the boy down the range. Ignoring the police girl's nervous glances, Pip showed Vlad how to hold the pistol and point it down range properly.

"See that?" he said, pointing at a circular target far off, then gestured to one of his men, who tossed him another handgun. He pointed the gun at the target, aimed, and pulled the trigger. The bullet struck four rings outside the bull's eye.

"Not bad, huh?" he asked Vlad, who was watching it all in wonderment. Pip pointed at the pistol's trigger. "You pull this"—pointed at the crosshair—"look through this, and hope you hit what you see."

The boy looked beyond confused.

"Give it a try."

The men hooted, egging him on. Vlad hesitated, then raised the pistol and fired, accidentally squeezing it twice. The kick of the weapon tossed his light body backward. He fell onto his rear and stared at the smoking gun in his hand. Laughter accompanied the hands that reached to help him up.

"Not bad for a first time," Pip said, gazing down the range. "Not…"

He stopped talking when he saw the two bullet holes clearly, two overlapping smack in the middle of the bull's eye. He looked at Vlad, who was dusting himself off and handing back the gun.

"Was that OK?" the boy asked, then continued to look confused as the men cheered and slapped him on the back.

Pip pulled Seras aside.

"Alucard picked this kid up, you say?"

"Uh…" she hesitated. "Yep."

"More like cloned himself," the Wild Geese captain muttered. "The way he handled that gun… it was like Alucard himself."

"Well, he _is_ master's blood child."

"So are you and you can't tell a hostage from a fly on the wall."

Integra took off her glasses and cleaned them. It was getting late. She stretched in her chair and wondered if maybe she should go to bed a little earlier than usual. Her curiosity only peeked a little when she distinctively heard someone been slapped.

TBC


	5. Chapter 5

AUTHOR'S NOTE: Too lazy to remove Anderson's accents, but there's really not that much of it. Enjoy & Review!

Chapter 5

A week passed. It was almost uneventful, much to the surprise of the head figures of Hellsing.

Vlad developed a routine fairly quick. He cleaned guns and watched the Geese practice at night, then slept in Integra's room during the day. The modern technology surrounding him he seemed to take for granted, assuming they existed because he was in another land. Unlike Alucard, he was obedient and gentle, much like a normal sweet-mannered thirteen-year-old. A few days after his "arrival", he began to act less nervous around the house, save for around Seras, around whom he still anxiously groped for his cross.

The Wild Geese took a real liking to the boy. He was different from the other vampires. They never really care for Alucard beyond a grudging respect. The alpha vampire's snide remarks, superiority complex, eerie ways of making an entrance, and grossly morbid sense of humor kept them at bay. As for Seras, they enjoyed her company and liked her like a fellow soldier in battle. But she was, well, a woman, a fact that they were terrible aware of as she strutted around in her short skirt and tight top. They were always a little less relaxed around her, a little less crude, and a little more gentlemanly.

Vlad, however, was a boy. Just a boy beyond his red eyes and tiny fangs. He appeared to be a bit slow and lacked a basic understanding of life, but he laughed at their jokes and teases, cheered at their maneuvers, and looked at everything with curiosity. The Geese looked at him like a mascot, and took every chance they had to let him shoot their weapons, then comment loudly within Pip's earshot that perhaps he should be replaced as captain.

Walter spent most of his time in the library, reading and taking notes. The things he found he wasn't certain of their use or importance. The boy came to him every now and then, usually asking for food under Integra's instructions. He found some clothes for the boy, but they were too big and had to be taken it. Vlad was practically drowning in them even after the alterations, but didn't seem to mind. The butler still found the whole situation beyond strange and couldn't guess what had turned his old comrade inside out like this, but somehow, it was nice. It's been a long time since a child resided in the Hellsing house.

Seras thought her master looked awfully cute and wondered whether he would resent that fact should she bring it up after he recovered.

Integra was feeling odd amongst it all.

For the first time in years, she was on schedule. She hadn't realized how much easier paperwork was when Alucard didn't drop from the ceiling or walked through the wall every ten minutes to tease her about one thing or another. It was quieter, calmer, and there were less bullet holes to repair. She refused to admit she missed it.

Of course there was another distraction now. Though she only saw the boy in the mornings and evenings, Vlad shadowed her relentlessly whenever he could. Integra was quite certain he did it because he felt safer around her, still been afraid of Seras and all. She felt rather awkward and uneasy talking to him in a, well, _nice_ tone, having become used to giving orders to everyone within her vicinity since age fourteen. Walter was right: mothering really wasn't in her nature.

But that wasn't the only reason, she admitted to herself. She also felt strange because she could tell that the boy wasn't completely lost to his elder self. Alucard was still in there. She didn't know if anyone else noticed, or if the boy himself even noticed, but that look in his eyes when she was near… the way he glanced at her when she wasn't looking directly at him was just how Alucard used to. It was sly, careful, and a look of general fascination.

And it was usually directed at her neck.

The boy still didn't know the "soup" he'd been eating was actually medical blood and it didn't seem like he'd figure it out anytime soon. He also didn't find it strange that he roamed at night and slept in the day. That was a blessing.

At the moment, he was inside her office, waiting patiently for her orders, as he did every evening after waking. She could feel his eyes on her as she worked. Alucard used to do the exact same thing.

"Evening, Vlad," she said, not looking up. "Sleep well?"

"Yes, sir."

"You can go ahead with your work. The Wild Geese are training on the range." Vlad bowed and turned, running smack into Walter, who had just pushed open the office door.

"Sorry, chap," the butler apologize with a smile, but quickly seized the boy's arm as he began to leave. "Don't go anywhere just yet." He turned to Integra. "I think it's best to keep Vlad out of sight for now, Integra."

Integra looked up. "What's the problem?"

"We have some surprise visitors."

"Who?"

"Enrico Maxwell and Father Alexander Anderson."

Integra shot to her feet. "What do they want?" she demanded sharply.

"Maxwell said they were in the neighborhood and dropped by to visit."

"That's never the reason." Integra stormed out from behind her desk. "I don't suppose there's any chance to tell them to leave, is there?"

Walter shook his head. "It's not a good idea. We both know the Queen has requested cooperation between Hellsing and the Vatican. Maxwell is most likely here just to see if you'd disobey orders and turn him away."

"What about the Judas Priest?"

"Looking for a fight with Alucard, I presume."

They shot quick glances at Vlad. "That's not possible. Alucard is in no condition to fight."

"Of course. We'll tell him he's away at the moment."

Integra flexed her hands in frustration. "I'll deal with Maxwell," she said through gritted teeth. "Take Anderson to a remote area of the house, where he can't cause trouble. Put the police girl on alert and order her to stay out of sight." She turned to Vlad. "You. Stay here. Don't go anywhere until I come back."

"Did I do something wrong, sir?" the boy asked. Integra sighed at the crushed look on his face.

"No," she said, softening her tone. "It's not you. There are dangerous people here. You'll be safer if you stay here, got it? It won't be long."

Vlad nodded. Without another word, Integra and Walter left the office, leaving him alone.

oOo

Enrico Maxwell shuffled his feet impatiently. The English sow was taking her time. He had contemplated bringing more roses, but why waste money on the unappreciative wench? He glanced at the silent priest beside him.

"I'm beginning to think she's going to leave us out here," he said. Anderson shrugged. "You know, she really should get out more. If she put on a dress and a little lipstick once in a while I may even consider taking her out myself."

"Ah don't thank that's such a good idea," said the priest.

"That was a jest, Anderson."

Before Anderson could reply, the door before them swung open and they were greeted with a very irritated-looking director of Hellsing.

"What do you want, Maxwell?" she snapped. "Besides wasting my precious time?"

Maxwell put forth his best "come-hither" smile. "Don't be like that, Integra. Can't old friends stop to visit once in a while?"

"We're friends? That's news to me."

"Allow me enough time for one cup of tea," Maxwell said, "and we'll be on our way. Just to show to each other and the Queen that we are capable of been civil. Don't you agree?"

Integra rubbed the bridge of her nose. Maxwell made a mental note to duck if she struck out at him. "Fine," she said after a moment, and addressed her butler. "Put on some tea, Walter, and use small cups." She stepped aside to let them into the mansion. "Father Anderson," she said with a slight dip of the head as the priest passed her.

"Miss Hellsing," he replied, matching her chillingly respectful tone.

"If you're looking for Alucard, he's not around."

"Might ah ask whar the vampire 'ad gone to?"

"On a mission. Won't be back for a while." She led them to the lounge. "You are more than welcome to have tea with us, or Walter will keep you company for a while."

Anderson seemed to consider this. "If it's alright," he said. "Ah would rather wait in the hall."

Integra shrugged. "Suit yourself."

After the two directors disappeared down the hall, Anderson found a seat in the hallway and sat. It shouldn't take long. Maxwell was only here to grate on the Hellsing's nerves a little. Sooner or later the boorish woman would lose her temper and chase him out, probably threatening to beat him with her shoe. The priest yawned. It was all rather predictable. He hadn't wanted to come to England in the first place, and even less desire to stop by the Hellsing estate. Now that the vampire wasn't even here to provide a little entertainment, he missed the kids at the orphanage. He checked the clock on the wall. They couldn't leave soon enough.

Still, something made him edgy. He sniffed the air, which was thick with an ever so familiar scent. He couldn't quite put his finger on it. Leather; metallic; bloody; yet different. He stood and walked slowly through the hall, towards its source.

As he ascended the mansion's stairs, the smell faded, but the feeling lingered. Excitement tingled through Anderson's body. Was it the Draculina? Had she grown stronger in the time spent at the mansion? Perhaps the monster had been training her. But… no, not her. This wasn't her. It was a demon no doubt, but not Seras Victoria.

Alucard was near, he had no doubt. Only a demon of his level could give off such a strong aura. The priest drew his blades and held them between his fingers. The vampire wanted to hide? Run scared? That wouldn't do. The justice of God will find him and the Protestant woman's lies won't save him.

One side of the top floor's hall was lined with doors, the other windows. Feeling more certain now, Anderson tried each door. The first two were locked, which was alright. He sensed nothing in them anyway.

The third was ajar. He leaned against it and pushed it open slowly with his shoulder. The demon was inside, he knew it! His blood boiled as he saw the vampire's red eyes.

With a mighty roar, he kicked the door open and raised his blades.

The small boy let out a frightened shriek and ducked behind Integra's desk.

Anderson blinked.

The child peeked out at him, red eyes glowing in the darkness. Slowly, the priest lowered his blades as they studied each other.

It was a vampire, no doubt about it. His eyes were a dead give away, and the amount of power radiating from his body was undeniable. His first instinct was to charge forward and plunge his blades into the monster's chest, and yet he couldn't bring himself to do it. As the boy crawled out from behind the desk, Anderson drew the blades back into his sleeve.

The child looked about ten years of age. A golden cross hung from his neck, swinging in front of his chest. This was strange, a vampire bearing a cross so closely. The trembling gaze he gave Anderson made the priest feel he wasn't dangerous. If the boy, vampire or not, was inside Hellsing (and Integra's office no less), there must be a good reason. Perhaps the heathen Alucard had picked up another fledgling, in which case killing him could cause more trouble than it's worth.

Besides, that weak spot for children in his heart couldn't allow it.

Anderson squatted down on the floor and waved for the boy to come over. "Come ovah," he said gently. "It's OK. Ah mistook thee for someone else."

The boy got to his feet carefully, his eyes fixated on the cross Anderson wore around his own neck. "Are you a priest?" he asked softly.

"That ah am."

"Oh," the boy said. "Good evening, Father."

Anderson smiled. Despite his size, he was quite disarming to children. "Good evening. What's your name?"

"Vlad."

Did he know that name? Anderson wasn't sure. "What are ye doing here, child?"

The boy had taken a few steps forward now, but still standing a fair distance away, hands clasped behind his back nervously. He had jet black hair, pale skin, and distinct European features. "I live here, Father," he said politely.

Anderson frowned. "How did ye come here?"

"The Sultan sold me to this house. I'm supposed to stay here until my father comes for me."

Unable to make sense of this information, Anderson brushed it aside. He studied the boy named Vlad, who looked strangely familiar. He motioned for the child to come closer. The boy did, and smiled a little when the priest laid a comforting hand on his shoulder.

It was a kind smile, which relaxed Anderson somewhat. Despite his eerie resemblance to the priest's mortal enemy, the vampire himself would never be able to muster such a smile, nor would he ever wish to. Anderson patted the boy's shoulder.

"When did ye come here, my child?"

"Eight days ago," said the boy. "I was shipped here in a coffin over seas."

"And ye serve the house?"

"Yes, father. I serve Sir Integra."

"Ye know the other people in the house?"

"I know Walter," the boy said, tilting his head in thought. "And Miss Victoria. And Captain Bernadette."

It made sense. If Alucard had indeed taken this child as a fledgling, then his duty would be to cater to Integra and train with the Draculina. Anderson stroke his beard. So Hellsing has three vampires now. Interesting.

"Are you Alucard, Father?"

Anderson nearly fell over. "What?"

"Are you not?" The boy looked disappointed. "Sir Integra said he is also a servant of this house, and that I am to meet him soon."

The boy didn't know his own master?

"Nay," Anderson said. "I am not. My name is Alexander Anderson."

There was an unmistakable spark in the boy's eyes, the kind flying off of clashing metal. Anderson barely caught it. But it disappeared before he could read into it.

"Does ye know much of vampires?" he asked. Part of him was curious as to how Hellsing was training such a young child.

The boy blinked. "What is a vampire, Father?"

Anderson opened his mouth to answer, just as and authoritative voice interrupted him.

"Father Anderson."

He quickly stood and turned. The English sow stood at the doorway, accompanied by her butler and a confused-looking Maxwell.

Integra's eyes shot daggers. "Vlad," she said. "Come here."

The boy scampered to her side. The Hellsing director turned her glare to Maxwell. "If you would," she said coldly, "instruct your subordinates to show a little more respect for the privacy of another's house."

Maxwell didn't seem to hear her, his eyes fixated on Vlad. "What's this?" he said with a hint of amusement. "Another pet, Integra? I would've thought the two you already have would've kept you busy enough."

"This is the new ward of Hellsing," Integra informed him sharply. "He is of no interest to you or your priest. I suggest you both leave right now."

Scoffing, Maxwell turned on his heel. "Trust me," he said snidely, "I have very little interest in what you do with your heathen pets, be it one or a hundred. Come along, Anderson."

The priest followed, but before they turned a corner he glanced back and saw Integra kneeling before the boy, checking his face much he same way he often did when the children at the orphanage scuffed themselves up playing.

"What's the deal on the kid?" Maxwell asked after they exited the mansion.

"'e is a vampire, no doubt," Anderson replied.

"Another child of Alucard?"

"Perhaps." Anderson paused. "Seems aharmless though, perhaps even a bit slow. Ah don't think he knows what his situation is."

"Meaning?"

"He don't know he's a vampire."

Maxwell laughed. "Well," he said, "don't that beat all?"

As they walked away, Anderson couldn't help but wonder about the spark in the boy's eyes upon hearing his name.

TBC


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter 6

Integra slumped into her chair behind her desk, one hand instinctively groping for a cigar. She bit off end of the first one she found and lit it. Walter stood across from her, his weary but relieved face matching her own.

"That was too close."

The butler nodded. "My apologies. I should have kept a better eye on him."

"You should have," Integra said, a bit pointedly, "but overall, it makes no difference in the long run. If Vlad is to be around for a while, that swing Enrico would've found out eventually. Anderson must have sensed Alucard's presence. That man has a nose for vampires like a bloodhound."

"Seems he found Vlad harmless."

"The kid unwittingly played his cards right." Integra rubbed her temples. "This is a worrisome situation, Walter."

Walter smiled knowingly. "More than usual, Integra? I would think you'd worry less, now that he's by your side every day."

The Hellsing director frowned. "Don't tease me, Walter. Now is not the time."

"I'm sorry," Walter apologized, but his smile remained. "I only mean we never finished that conversation we started the other night. In fact, it was the night before Alucard's… transformation."

"Are you going to continue your irritation of me by twisting my words again?"

"I don't believe I twisted any words. You could imagine my surprise when you told me that you actually worry about Alucard going on missions."

"I was talking to myself."

"Within my earshot. It's hard to forget. Do you remember what you said?"

"I said I'm worried."

"Worried that your loyal servant, the decidedly most powerful vampire in the world, might get into a scrape with a class-C mongrel."

"He is important to the organization. I must show a little concern now and then."

"Is that the only reason?"

In spite of herself, Integra chuckled. "There you go again, reading too much into my words."

"All I did was ask whether it's due to you having a certain, shall we say soft spot, in your heart for him."

"I care for all those who serve this house. You, Seras, the Wild Geese. You're all important."

"Importance differs from importance."

"You're doing it again." Integra took a drag of her cigar. "I stick to what I said that night: the love you imply has no room in my life."

"But you also said…"

Walter was interrupted but a knock and stopped mid-sentence. He turned and opened the office door. Vlad stepped inside timidly.

"Sir Integra?" he said. "You haven't told me… shall I go to work with Miss Victoria now?"

"Yes," Integra said quickly. "I will take you." She walked past Walter and gave the butler a slanted look. "So certain butlers may take time to learn to mind their own business."

As she exited with Vlad, Walter only chuckled. Integra shook her head and sighed, and it wasn't until they reached the bottom floor that she saw Vlad was looking at her with inquiring eyes.

"Yes?"

Vlad scratched his cheek, as if looking for words. "Sir Integra…" he said hesitantly, "is Mr. Alucard your… um…"

He didn't know the proper word for it, Integra could tell. The relationship between man and woman in his day an age were either non-existent or husband and wife. Seems he had already figured out that she was unmarried and therefore had no other way to phrase his question.

"…companion?"

The word had a certain weight to it. Integra considered this and nodded slowly. "Of a sort," she replied. "I suppose you can say that we are companions."

"I don't know if that is what I am asking," Vlad admitted. "I don't know the word for it, perhaps there is one in your land? Romantic, perhaps?"

_Romantic…_

She looked down at the boy and had to remind herself that he was not a clueless outside. He was _Alucard_ for God's sake. But how to answer his questions…

"You seem concerned for him. Is he in trouble?"

Integra shrugged. "Nothing he can't get out of."

"You're worried." It was a statement, not a question, and for a moment the tone of his voice matched Alucard's exactly. "Do you mind me asking, Sir Integra, if you were lovers?"

Integra nearly choked on her own spit before she remembered that the word "lovers" held completely different meanings today than five hundred years ago. Still, the boy had asked whether she and her vampire servant were in love, and this boy _was_ the vampire servant in question. So is this Alucard? Asking…

"What makes you ask that?"

"I'm sorry," Vlad quickly apologized, looking ashamed. "I didn't mean to overhear… I know it's not my business…"

Integra silenced him with a wave of her hand. "Don't worry," she said. "Those doors aren't very thick." In fact, they were plenty thick, but the boy did have Alucard's ears. She smiled a little and ruffled his hair. "And you're right, it's none of your business."

oOo

Vlad liked Sir Integra.

This was the thought on his mind as he cleaned Seras' Harkonnen and watched the Geese drill. After three weeks of it, he was becoming quite used to the routine, and was even… happy.

Happiness was a new concept to him. He had never been very close to anyone in his life. For his father Vlad II and old brother Mircea, he held a distant respect. That is, when he's not been knocked around by one of them. His mother was a mousey woman who never came to his aid, even when he was no more than an infant. She educated him in the basic academics, and spent most of her time sitting in a chair in the corner of the sewing room like a lifeless porcelain doll.

Radu, his little brother, was the closet thing he had to a friend. Radu was prideful and often temperamental, but they spent time together and did not quarrel most of the time. Vlad sighed and wondered where his brother was. The Sultan's castle, perhaps?

That was one place he was glad to be out of. His father had left both he and Radu there. For good faith, if he understood correctly, though he wasn't certain what that meant. The things the Sultan did to the boys indicated things far from good faith. Vlad spent most of his time creeping about the castle like a wounded animal, hoping to catch no one's eye in order to avoid a beating. He ate whatever he could find in the corners of the kitchen, and slept on a cot in the same room as Radu. But those were the good days.

On the bad days, or rather nights, the Sultan had other plans.

Vlad shivered and clutched his cross. Memories of climbing out of the Sultan's bed and sneaking off after the hulk of a man had fallen asleep flooded his mind. He felt the ghost of the cold sweat that would run down his back on those nights, the feeling of been covered in filthy he couldn't wash off.

He rolled up his left sleeve. The skin on his forearm was smooth, which he found a bit strange but not too out of the ordinary. Three weeks should've been enough for the scratches he put there to heal.

He thought about Sir Integra again, which made a part deep inside him stir. She was very beautiful. Even though he notices the way the rest of the household looks at Miss Victoria, who is curvier and dressed more provocatively, he found Sir Integra to be much more of a classic beauty—dignified, respected, and carried herself with the air of a duchess. She was the direct opposite of his timid mother but also more gentle and kind than anyone had ever been to him. When he slept in her bed, he could smell her in the sheets, a gentle waft of tobacco and lilacs. It was very comforting.

He also wondered about the servant he had yet to meet. Alucard. Such a strange name, and somehow made him uneasy. Why? He couldn't put his finger on it.

Finishing his reassemble of the Harkonnen, Vlad set the cannon aside and moved onto the next item, briefly wondering how England had managed to make such a large weapon so light. In the distance, someone fired a shot, which was followed by a crash, cursing, jeering, and a stern reprimand from Seras.

"Lighten up, police girl!" he heard Captain Bernadette say, and looked up. Whenever Captain Bernadette says "lighten up," there was bound to be fireworks.

"You lighten up!" Miss Victoria was shouting. "What do you think you're doing! That statue's going to cost a fortune to repair!"

"It's just a lawn ornament!"

"It's an antique! Miss Integra's going to have a fit!"

"So we'll hide it, no big deal."

Some of the Geese have gathered around to watch the shouting match. A few of the men turned in Vlad's direction and motioned for him to join then. He did. Whenever Captain Bernadette and Miss Victoria start yelling at each other, it usually took them several minutes before realizing they had become the center of attention. In fact, the Geese often took bets on the variation of time.

"Three and a half minutes," someone whispered as Vlad approached.

"Nah, he really screwed up this time," someone else said. "I give it six at least."

"Four," another man chimed in, squeezing Vlad's shoulder. "Vlad gets to use the loser for target practice."

Laughter rippled through the ranks. Just before the argument hit its three-minutes mark, a loud beeping sound emerged from Captain Bernadette's side. Vlad watched curiously as he raised a finger to silence Seras and simultaneous pulled a black box out of his pocket and spoke into it.

"Yes?" he said, then was silent. All eyes were on him. Something in the air had changed. Vlad thought he could smell tension.

"Alright, boss." The black box went back into his pocket. Captain Bernadette turned to his men, his expression suddenly serious. "There's a major disturbance smack in the middle of town. Get your gear and ready the vehicles. Go! Go! Go!"

Suddenly his surroundings exploded into chaos. Or rather, ordered chaos. The Wild Geese snatched up their weapons and armor as Seras picked up her Harkonnen. Vlad scrambled to get out of the way as men rushed past him in a huff. From behind the estate came strange contraptions with blinding lights strapped to their front. Vlad shielded his eyes and saw the men climb into the contraption through the gaps between his fingers. Then they began to move out, like horseless carriages, but much larger, and much faster.

A hand gripped his arm. He looked up to see Captain Bernadette grinning down at him.

"Hey Vlad," said the captain, looking more mischievous than usual. "You wanna see some real Hellsing action?"

Excitement suddenly overwhelmed him. Despite not knowing what "action" was just referred to, Vlad nodded furiously. Captain Bernadette grinned.

"That's the spirit."

Next thing he knew, Vlad found himself shoved into the back of one of the metal carriages along with six other men, who laughed and clapped him on the back. Then the carriage was sealed and began moving. Through the glass panes on its sides, Vlad watch in amazement as it bounded at lightning speed toward a city with enormous buildings shaped like silhouettes of giant soldiers standing at attention.

TBC


	7. Chapter 7

NOTE: I am breaking SO many personal records with this story yall have no idea. Thank you all so much! Therefore, I'm updating another chapter for yall early. The "good stuff" pretty much starts here.

Also, I'd like the following words explained since I donno what they mean: wip, horx.

Enjoy & Review!

Chapter 7

Integra watched the Geese leave in their armored cars from the window of her office. A group of vampires have been spotted downtown, some armed and shooting pedestrians. Another rebel force no doubt, one of the Medians' pathetic attempts to organize and gain power. It happened every now and then, but never took root. Low-level vampires are not very good at organization, as they can barely control their own primitive urges. The only ones who came close have been Luke and Jan Valentine, and even they fell at the feet of Alucard and Seras.

Speaking of which…

She turned around just as Walter entered the office. "The Geese have departed," he informed her.

Integra nodded. "Good," she said. "Bring Vlad up there. I'll find something for him to do until Seras returns."

A weary look came over the butler's face. "That may be a problem," he said. "I can't seem to find him anywhere."

A silent alarm went off in Integra. "What?"

"I can't find him," Walter repeated. "I looked everywhere, and usually when there's nothing to do, he finds his way back to you, but…"

"Don't say what I think you're going to say."

"I think he went with them."

Integra swore, which made Walter, who was still somewhat used to thinking of her as his little girl on occasions, cringe. "Ready the car," she said, storming past him. "We need to bring him back."

"Is there really such cause for alarm?" Walter asked, following her out of the office. "He is still Alucard, after all."

"Alucard without knowledge of how to use his powers," Integra said. "If he can't phase through walls or fly, what makes you think he'll know what to when he loses an arm?"

oOo

The sound of explosions was deafening. Vlad covered his ears and hunkered in the now-empty metal carriage. After Miss Victoria discovered that he had come along, she and Captain Bernadette nearly went into another shouting match, had it not for the gunfire that greeted them. Looking extremely agitated, Miss Victoria told him to stay in the carriage and bar the doors.

He had learned some things over the past few weeks, mostly about guns, bombs, and some strange military tactics that he could only assume were not in use in Wallachia. As soon as the Geese exited their respective carriages, bullets filled the air and the nearest building exploded into flames. The troops took their positions and began to return file. Though the carriage's wall, he could make out muffled words been exchanged.

"Cover me!" he heard Miss Victoria yell. There was a wave of gunfire and he raised his head to the window in time to see her charging into the smoking building, her enormous cannon in hand.

Something banged the side of the carriage. "You all right in there, kid?" he head Captain Bernadette ask, shouting over the noise.

"I'm fine," he shouted back. "What's going on?"

"The police girl ain't too keen on bringing you," the captain replied. "But…" there was a pause. "Oh f…!"

Vlad didn't catch the rest of that word before Captain Bernadette dove for cover. The side of the carriage was pummeled with bullets. He quickly scooted to a corner and waited for the barrage to stop. There was eerie silence outside. Anxious, he peeked outside again.

Down the street came an armed battalion, rather that's what he assumed they were. When they got closer, he noticed something strange about the way they moved, as if they had trouble controlling their hanging limbs. They all held various forms of firearm, but did not take aim. He didn't see how they could, with their heads rolling about as if unattached to their necks. Most of their mouths hung open under vacant eyes and he saw a few had black tongues.

"Armed ghouls!" Someone shouted. "Take'em out!"

The Wild Geese fired, and the ghouls returned them. Vlad watched in horror as the Hellsing troops took raked through the ghouls with their gunfire. Most of the slow-moving battalion went down, their heads exploding, but some, he saw with wide eyes, kept moving even after they lost an arm or both legs. A few were split at the waist and kept crawling with their fingers dragging on the ground.

_What is this…_

"Keep it up 'til the police girl's outta there!" More gunfire. Captain Bernadette raised his own gun and took out a few. He wiped his brow and checked his watch, then eyed the smoldering building anxiously. "It's been too long!" he shouted to his men. "Cover me, I'm going in!"

The team of armed ghouls were dwindling in number now. Vlad watched the captain disappear into the building as his men finished the job. A few had been shot, but no casualties. The gunfire thinned as the last few ghouls fell. The Wild Geese rose from behind various covered spots and gathered in the center of the street, their weapons still raised. Vlad could make out bits and pieces of their whispered conversation.

"…highly unusual."

"Giving ghouls weapons… strange… kind of makes sense if you think about it."

"…happened before."

"They're… and learning."

"…terribly disorganized."

"…the kid?"

The back door to the carriage opened. A heavily armored man stuck his head inside. "You OK, kid?" he asked. "Wanna come out for a bit? I think we're done for the moment."

Nodding, Vlad climbed out of the carriage. The street was in shambles, bodies and rubble everywhere. A ghoul laid uncomfortably close to his feet. He saw that the thing's face was ashen. Patches of loose skin hung from its scalp. It was long dead.

_The dead are walking the earth_, he thought with a shudder. _Is this what the Hellsing house does?_

"You look a little sick there," one of the men said. "Don't worry, you get used to it."

Before he could contemplate on whether he wanted to get used to it, a familiar scent caught his attention. The air was thick with it, rich and tantalizing. He couldn't place it, but its presence was unmistakable. Vlad wrinkled his nose.

Two men were busy bandaging their comrade's leg, which had been grazed by a bullet. The bandage was soaked through, the red spot growing by the second. Vlad couldn't take his eyes off it. Somehow it was endlessly fascinating. Unwittingly, he took a step toward the wounded soldier, unaware that his lips had parted just wide enough to reveal his sharp fangs.

A heavy hand landed on his shoulder. The man who had let him out looked at him sternly. "Watch yourself, kid," he said. "That's not for you. Take it from a ghoul if you want it that bad."

Take what? Vlad eyed the man in confusion. Before he could ask, a commotion rose through the ranks. Captain Bernadette came stumbling out the building, supporting Miss Victoria on his arm. The woman was bleeding profusely from a large wound on her side and was barely standing.

"Look sharp!" Bernadette called to his men. "The bastards have silver bullets!"

oOo

Walter turned the car past the blocked streets just in time for he and Integra to see the new round of gunfire start. Searching the crowd, he pointed to a small figure hunkered by an armored car.

"There he is. Would you like me to fetch him?"

Integra studied the scene and shook her head. "Not now. Seems he's smart enough to stay out of the way."

The exchange of fire lasted twenty minutes. Five men went into the building and came out a few moments later. Judging by the exchange that took place after their return, the mission was successful.

Integra pushed open the car door and stepped out. Pip looked rather sheepish as she approached.

"Hey boss," he said, grinning. "I can explain…"

Integra glared at him sharply. "You will receive your reprimand later for putting an inexperienced recruit in danger," she snapped. Her eyes landed on the figure next to him. The police girl was clutching her side and breathing heavily, but otherwise seemed to be alright. "What's wrong with her?"

"They were expecting us," Pip replied. He gestured to one of his men, who brought over a handful of small objects and handed them to Integra. "They had silver bullets. Crudely made, but still silver. There were only five vampires in the place, but they had a handful of ghouls with guns loaded with the stuff."

Integra raised one of the bullets to her face. They were definitely cheaply made, only regular bullets with a piece of silver melted to the tip. She looked at Seras again.

"She got shot three times," Pip informed her. "They passed through clean."

Three silver shots. Alucard would've healed such a wound three times over in two seconds, but Seras needed at least twenty minutes. As she watched, the police girl made a pathetic attempt at standing and delivering a salute.

"Sit down," Integra said. Seras did, with a sigh of relief. She looked at Pip. "Have your men secure the area and let the clean-up crew do its work."

"Yes, sir." Pip saluted.

"Where's Vlad?"

In a split second the boy was in front of her, his arms tightly wrapped around her middle. This took Integra by surprise. Had he been frightened?

Another split second later, she felt the impact of five silver bullets embedding themselves into the boy's back.

TBC


	8. Chapter 8

AUTHOR'S NOTE: due to the high number of reviews (and occasional threat of bodily harm), I am updating again. Everyone hoping for me to make things better… you're gonna hate me.

Chapter 8

Seras saw the vampire in the window, missing one side of his face but still moving. She saw it raise a handgun and take aim at Integra. She opened her mouth to shout, realized it was too late, and reached for her Harkonnen instead.

They fired at the same time.

She saw her bullet fly, saw the vampire's bullets. Then the creature's head exploded and its body collapsed out of sight, its bullets still in the air.

Then her master moved. Though in his current form, he was still so fast she could barely catch the blur of his movement. He rushed to Integra and wrapped his arms around her.

The bullets went into his back. Five of them. The sixth missed.

Exactly one second had passed.

Silence came over the troops as all eyes landed on the boy. Only the sound of falling debris filled the air. Seras got to her feet shakily, her wound nearly healed. She saw Walter get out of the driver's seat of Integra's car, his eyes wide.

Vlad seemed to be in shock. He was stilling gripping Integra, who also seemed at a loss for what to do next. Several seconds dragged by before Pip opened his mouth.

"Holy c…"

Then the boy started to scream.

He lost his grip on Integra, who caught him firmly before he hit in the ground. Panicked shouts rang out all around as she dropped to her knees and lowered Vlad to his. Pip rushed forward and examined the boy's back.

"Good lord!" he exclaimed. "Clear a path!" he shouted to his men. "We gotta get the kid outta here! Those damn things are burning right through him!"

Seras stumbled to her master's side. The boy was writhing in Integra's grasp, clawing at his back, where five perfectly formed holes were smoldering as if someone had burned his skin with a cigarette. Tendrils of smoke wafted into the air and she could smell burning flesh.

_Why didn't they go through like they did her?_

"Walter!" Integra was shouting. "Get the car over here! We have to get him back, NOW!" She motioned to Pip. "You! Pick him up. Get him to the car."

"Yes, sir!" Dropping his weapons, Pip hoisted Vlad onto his back. "Jesus, what's wrong with this kid? He weighs like twenty pounds!"

"Police girl!" Seras snapped to attention. "Stop spacing out and get back to the mansion. We may need your help."

"Yes, sir," she replied as Integra followed Pip, carrying Vlad, to her car. She had to, Seras saw, since the boy wouldn't let go of her hand.

_They didn't pass through because he didn't want them to_, Seras realized. _Even without his memory, he was protecting her._

oOo

They managed to get the boy, half-conscious and sobbing pitifully, back to the estate. Pip, following Integra's instructions, carried him upstairs and to Integra's bedroom. There he laid the boy down on Integra's bed and ogled his surroundings.

"The boss's bedroom," he said clicking his tongue. "Nice." Seras silenced him with a glare.

Walter turned Vlad onto his stomach and pulled up his shirt. The holes on his back were taking on a sickly black color, still smoking up a storm. He examined one, touching it gingerly, but as soon as his fingers connected, the boy howled in pain and writhed as he did before. Pip and Seras took turns holding him down.

"Why is he in so much pain?" Integra asked anxiously. She was sweating, large beads clinging to her brow. "Alucard was immune to pain."

Pip's eyes widened. "Hey, is that…"

"He wasn't immune," Walter replied. "But his tolerance for pain was so great he might as well have been. But in this state it seems he has no more tolerance than a human, and also, as you said before, cannot conjure up his ability to heal."

"That's Alucard, isn't it?" Pip exclaimed incredulously. "Whoa wait a minute how'd he…"

"What do we do?"

"We have to get the bullets out." Walter stood. "I'll go get the instruments. We have to do it right away, before they really do burn through his body."

"Someone tell me what's going on here!" Pip cried. Integra turned to him, as if just noticing he was still there.

"Captain Bernadette," she said calmly. "Return to the barracks and tell no one of what you've learned."

"But…"

"Go." Her tone left no room for argument. Pip sighed and looked at the wounded boy one last time.

"Good luck, kid," he said, and left the room.

Seras was still in shock. She looked at her master, who, even in his battered state, never released the hand of his own master.

"You go, too, Seras." She snapped out of her trance. Integra was looking at her with tired, weary eyes. "Go on, you need rest, too."

"What about master?"

"Alucard will be fine. Walter and I will take care of him." There was something about the way she spoke… so soft… so worrisome. "Go ahead."

"I…"

"There's nothing else for you to do. You need your strength."

She stood and walked out, turning at the door long enough to see Integra stroking the boy's hand with both of her own.

oOo

Walter brought clean operating instruments and sanitized them. He washed his hands and approached the bed. The boy was eyeing him anxiously, his hand wrapped around Integra's tightly. Perhaps he wasn't even aware he was doing it. On his cheeks were trails left by red tears.

"We're getting the slugs out," the butler said. Integra nodded. "There's no way to do it except to just… well, do it."

Integra stroke the boy's face. "Should we give him painkillers?"

Walter shook his head. "They won't work. He's still technically dead."

"That doesn't make it any easier to bear."

"True." Walter replaced his cloth gloves with rubber ones. "Disinfectants won't work either, but he won't get infections."

"I suppose anesthesia won't work either."

"No." He sat down by the bed. "Sorry, my friend. This is going to hurt."

Fear darkened Vlad's face. At once he attempted to move away from the butler, struggling to crawl to the far side of the bed. Integra pulled him back. "Stay still," she said. The boy twitched.

"This is going to be tricky if he won't hold still."

"He will." Integra leaned toward Vlad, her face inches away from his. She gazed into his red eyes. "Alucard," she said softly. "I know you're in there." The boy stared back at her as she brushed hair away from his face. "Stay still until I tell you to move. That's an order."

He pulled on her hand. Integra looked over at Walter, who studied them both, then nodded. Carefully, Integra climbed onto bed and laid down next to Vlad, allowing him to hold on to her hand. She placed a pillow under his chin to make him more comfortable, and, perhaps, to give him something to bite on.

The operation took twenty-six minutes.

Removing the slugs themselves wasn't difficult, but listening to the boy's whimpers and watching his tears stain the pillowcase was. Walter bit his lip hard, trying to shut out the pitiable sound as he worked, cutting the holes just enough to pull the slugs out with tweezers. He didn't say a word, neither did Integra, who laid by the boy's side in silence.

Time went on forever. Every so often he had to stop to wipe blood from the boy's skin. There was so much of it that it frightened him. Vlad obviously didn't know how to draw blood back into himself, and his tension was making the blood flow worse.

He pulled another bullet out and laid it aside.

Integra's face was stolid and expressionless as he finished up and bandaged the wounds. He nodded at her and peeled off his gloves. She cradled the boy in her arms and touched his face and neck.

"Vlad?" she whispered. "Vlad?" The boy was limp and weak as a newborn kitten and did not respond.

"Alucard?"

His eyes fluttered. Walter raised a brow. Integra sighed in relief.

"Thank you, Walter."

The butler nodded tiredly and cleaned his glasses. "You should rest, too, m'lady."

"I will. I'm going to stay here with him."

Gathering up his equipment, Walter prepared to depart. "Will you need anything before I retire?"

"Yes. Some bandages and splints, if you could."

"What for?"

With some difficulty, Integra raised the hand Vlad had been clutching. It was noticeably misshapen. "Though he's a boy, he still has Alucard's strength," she said. "He broke my hand back when you were taking out that second slug."

Unconsciously, the boy snuggled closer to her. The cross around his neck has disappeared.

TBC


	9. Chapter 9

AUTHOR'S NOTE: ok, I lied… it's gonna be longer than 10 chapters it turns out. But I'm sure there are no complaints. Thanks for all the encouragements and helping me reach over 100 review! This is my second story ever to do so. Also, it seems like I should've worded/explained this better but… 20 pounds is what a 2-year-old should weigh. A healthy 13-year-old should be at least 75-85 pounds. My theory I guess is that in his weakened state Alucard isn't putting much effort into making a physical presence, seeing how he tends to… mist-fy and stuff. Don't argue technicalities plz. It made sense to me at the time. Plus I need him light… there's a reason.

Also, the dream sequence is based on Alucard's memory from the manga. If you want to argue any OOCness on Integra's part… well, I believe that very few people can watch a child get raped and not shed a few tears.

Enjoy & Review!

Chapter 9

She stayed with him all night, with his head pillowed on her arm. Half way through the night he stopped breathing, which sent a jolt through her heart until she remembered he wasn't supposed to breathe to begin with. Still, it wasn't a good sign. It meant even his subconscious was too weak to keep up the façade of been alive.

He was so limp and light it frightened her. The only sign that he was still conscious to the world was the fact that if she got up to stretch or wash up, his small hand would grope for her feebly. The sight was heartbreaking, and she had never fancied herself to have soft heart before.

In the morning Walter came in again, bringing food, fresh towels, bandages, and two packs of blood. Integra ate while he changed Vlad's bandages. It was rather difficult with her dominant hand bandaged and splinted.

"This isn't good."

She turned to him in alarm. "What is?"

"He won't stop bleeding. It's slowed during the night, but look at this." The butler held out the bandage he had just stripped off the boy's back. It was nearly soaked through. Here and there the fabric had turned black.

"What's going to happen if it doesn't stop?" Integra asked. She was struggling to keep her voice steady as Vlad reached out and found her bandaged hand again.

Walter sighed. "His skin is already turning cold, which could mean one of two things. Neither he's coming around and we'll have Alucard back to heal himself, or…" he cleared his throat. "He's dying."

Integra snapped to her feet. "How can he die? He's already dead."

"Theoretically he can't be killed by anyone, but that doesn't include himself. Alucard's mind power is beyond the comprehension of a normal man. If he wills himself to die, thinking that is what should happen… he will."

"And his body…"

"Will disintegrate."

Slowly, Integra sat back down on the bed. She buried her face in her good hand. Walter stood quietly and gathered his things.

"Have you found anything?" she asked suddenly. "Anything in the archives? Anything that can help?"

Walter started to shake his head, then stopped himself. "I did find some information. I could bring it by later if you wish. Or would you like me to leave it in your office?"

"No." She laid back down on the bed and held Vlad close. "Bring it here. I can't leave him like this."

Walter nodded. He laid the two blood packs on the nightstand. "See if you can get him to eat. He'll stand a better chance if he can at least replenish."

After he left, Integra felt around the nightstand until she located one of the blood packs, which took a few moments since she had drawn the curtains to keep the room as dark as possible. With some difficulty, she tore open the tab and brought it to Vlad's mouth.

"Open up," she said gently. The boy turned away. "Alucard. Open up. That's an order."

Reluctantly, he did. She put the tab into his mouth and let the blood drip inside. It wasn't until she felt the wetness on the sheets that she realized he wasn't swallowing. The red liquid flowed over his tongue and out the corner of his lips. He could open his mouth, but he couldn't make himself drink. Integra tossed the half-empty pack aside.

"What do you want?" she asked him, more pointedly than she had intended. The boy simply held her hand and didn't reply. She took one of the towels Walter brought and wiped off his face, then the sheets, and laid back down again.

Walter came again mid-day. She shook herself to tell him there's no improvement. He brought her several pages of a typed report on the information he had found. As he laid it on the nightstand and collected the blood packs, a thought occurred to her.

"Walter."

He stopped at the door. "Yes, m'lady?"

"I'm going to need a knife," she said, then added, "a clean one."

Knowing eyes landed on Vlad. "Are you sure about this?"

"I can think of nothing better."

And so he brought her a clean knife and asked if she needed assistance, and left when she shook her head no. She tried to cute her wounded hand first, but couldn't find a good angle through the splints. Holding three-inch blade as steadily as possible with her crippled hand, she made a long slit across her other palm. As if catching scent of this, the boy's eyes fluttered.

"Open up."

He did willingly this time. Integra held her bloody hand over his mouth and let the blood drip into him from her veins. And this time, he swallowed.

"This is what you wanted, isn't it?" she asked him, but mostly talking to herself. She smiled tiredly. "This is what you wanted since day one, since that first time you took a bullet for me." She ran a loving hand through his charcoal hair. "If you're just playing," she said to him, "if you've been pretending all along just so you can have a taste of my blood, you can stop now. You can come back. I won't be angry. I promise."

The boy didn't respond.

"In fact, if you come back now, I'll keep giving it to you, every day for the rest of my life."

But he didn't. After drinking his fill the boy fell back into his slumber, his skin cold and ashen. Integra cleaned her wound and stayed next to him for another day, and another night.

And a few more after that.

oOo

On the seventh night she had a dream.

It wasn't unusual for her and Alucard to share dreams. In fact, sometimes he snuck into her dreams and rearranged things just to see how long before she would notice. But this time it was different. He wasn't in her dream; she was in his.

She was inside a castle, at least that's what she figured it was, with its stone walls and luxurious antique furniture. Everything was old and the air smelled like incense and smoke. As she strolled down its vast halls, servants and soldiers passed her by, though none took notice of her.

Suddenly there came a loud crash and a door at the end of one of the halls opened and in walked a large man dressed in multi-colored robes and jewels. He was at least three times her size, bulky and strong. Judging by the way servants ducked out of his way, he was the boss of the place. He was speaking a language she didn't understand to someone walking behind him.

No, someone he was dragging behind him.

Clutched in his hand was the hair of a boy, one she had become so very familiar with as of late. He was been pulled across the rough floor, scraping his knees and hands, and yet he did not seem to feel them. On his face was a placid look. His eyes were empty as he allowed himself to be pulled and cursed at. He looked like he had given up on the world long ago.

_Hey you!_ She wanted to shout. _Leave him alone!_

But the large man didn't hear her. No one did for no sound came out of her mouth. The only thing she could do was follow as the boy was dragged on the floor, up a flight of stairs, and into a private chambers with a wide bed draped with silks.

With a snarl, the man threw the boy onto the bed. The boy was so light he hardly made a dent when he landed. Around his neck, Integra saw, was a golden cross.

Then the man held the boy down on the bed and proceeded to tear off his clothing. At first the boy struggled, but after a few meaty strikes across the face he gave in and allowed the man, who she now assumed was the Sultan, to do as he wished.

And it was not a pretty thing he did.

Then she heard his voice, not with her ears but within her mind. She heard the boy's silent prayers as the Sultan violated him in the worst way imaginable. He begged for God's mercy, cried for aid, until his words became garbled and weak, until he was sobbing inside and out and still was granted no relief.

Finally, satisfied, the man shoved the boy aside and fell asleep. The boy, naked and bruised, laid there, afraid to breath, afraid to move. Then his head turned to one side and dark eyes met Integra's. They stared at each other until she felt like she was going to burst from the urge to scream, to cry for the boy's pain and suffering.

And she felt tears roll down her cheek, even though this was no more than a dream.

Then the boy spoke. The voice that came out of his mouth was that of a grown man, of her loyal servant.

"Why are you crying, master?" he asked her, in the same teasing tone Alucard always used. "I have to watch this every day."

Then her eyes opened and she couldn't see clearly. As she wiped away the remnant of her tears, Integra remembered the last time she had cried. It was her father's bedside, as he breathed his last breath. Ten years had passed.

The small figure in her arms was sleeping quietly. She looked at his face. Weak and defeated, it looked just how it did in her dream. Holding him tightly against her, she wept quietly, mourning the part of him that had died long before his real death, weeping for the innocence lost.

TBC


	10. Chapter 10

AUTHOR'S NOTE: ok, um, this problem with my "been" and "being", it's always been there. English isn't my first language and grammar has always been (is that right?) somewhat of a challenge to me. If you'd like, leave a message and explain the difference between them to me and maybe it will help later on.

Enjoy the story!

Chapter 10

The Hellsing house was abuzz with rumors. Everyone is offering a different speculation on why the director had not emerged from her room for nearly ten days now. The only ones who knew the truth kept their mouths shut.

That child is her and Alucard's, some said. It looks so big because it can take on whatever form it chooses. Now it's wounded and she can't leave his side because she's his mother. No, some said. That child is strange. He's turning her into a vampire and controlling her mind.

Still other things were said. That child is Alucard, someone suggested. He's in that form and had lost his memory. Though this one didn't get very far, since Pip immediately berated the person for spreading idle gossip and made him run double weapons duty. Thereafter, he informed all the soldiers that the only reason the "Ice Queen" had been staying with the boy is because she felt like she owed him for saving her life and is trying to find a way to keep him alive until Alucard can return and help.

Is she feeding him her blood? Someone asked.

He made that person run double weapons duty, too.

Seras spoke little during this time. She trained as she should and did the things duty obligated her do, but nothing beyond that. She became weary and agitated and did not sleep well. Whenever she did sleep, she could feel her master's life force, so weak like a flickering candle. A few times she ventured upstairs at night to check on he and Integra, and each time she saw the Hellsing director laying with her master, looking more and more haggard and thin. She knew Integra hadn't been eating much, and judging by the smell of the room, has been feeding the boy fresh blood.

She was worried, beyond worried, but there was nothing she could do. Imagining the Hellsing house without her master was too depressing a thought.

Walter kept up Integra's work as best as he could and tended to her every chance he had. As long as Vlad showed no sign of improvement, she refused to leave his side, and at the rate she was feeding him, the butler feared she may actually need a transfusion herself.

Integra, for her part, was worn. Her nerves were raw from lack of sleep and adequate nourishment. Her broken hand ached constantly and her good hand was covered in ghastly cuts she had made herself. But she couldn't leave, wouldn't allow herself to. Vlad clung to her day and night, as if she was his source of security now that his cross had vanished.

Sometimes he talked, but in various languages she couldn't understand, and this worried her because it meant he was slipping further and further away. But every now and the he would speak English, and address her quietly as "master", which gave her hope.

His skin grew increasingly cold.

She read the report Walter gave her. It told her nothing she didn't already know. In 1444, at the age of thirteen, young Vlad and his brother Radu were sent to Adrianople as hostages, to appease the Sultan. He remained there until 1448, at which time he was released by the Turks, who supported him as their candidate for the Wallachian throne. Vlad's younger brother apparently chose to remain in Turkey, where he had grown up. Unrecorded in history was the part his dream had shown her: the abuse and pain he kept to himself for the last five hundred years.

Does it really still haunt him? Seems it does. The wounds of a child are not easy to forget. The only thing she managed to confirm from all this was that this time, at age thirteen, was very likely the time he felt the most angst and suffering, before he grew up and lashed out at the rest of the world as Vlad the Impaler. This was the time when he still had faith in God though his prayers were never answered, when he was still capable of love though everyone around him seemed to be bent on changing that.

So why? Why would he be in this form? Why did he take on the body in which he experienced the most pain?

And now he's in pain once more.

She held him. Going on day thirteen.

_You served me for ten years. I can return the favor for two weeks._

oOo

Eighteen days since Vlad took to bed, the Convention of Twelve arrived for a pre-arranged meeting that had been set up several months ago. None of the members were aware of the boy's condition, although a few had heard rumors of his existence. Unable to reschedule, Integra had no choice but to attend.

With her hand still splinted, she asked Seras to help her dress and groom. The police girl couldn't help but notice the bags under the director's eyes and the sunken appearance of her cheeks. As she brushed Integra's hair, she couldn't hold back.

"Miss Integra…"

"Don't worry."

The interruption took her by surprise. Integra was wiping her face with a hot towel, looking calm and collected as if nothing was out of the ordinary.

"I know you're worried," she said. "Don't be. It's going to be fine. Everything will be fine."

Her tone was strangely motherly. Seras smiled sadly. "You sound so confident. I wish I had that kind of faith."

"You do. If you didn't, you would've left long ago. You stayed because you feel your master will return any day."

This was true. Seras blushed. "I suppose so." She set the brush aside and handed Integra her glasses. "What will you tell the Convention?"

Integra stood and shrugged into her jacket. "That what we do at Hellsing is none of their business."

The Convention members were beginning to get agitated when she finally walked in, dressed neat and impeccable as always. The marks on her left hand could be easily hidden with a glove, but the splint on her right hand caused a few brows to raise.

"What happened to you hand, Sir Hellsing?"

Taking her seat, Integra did not even grant the speaker a sideways glance. "Things happen, Sir Wellington," she said coldly, "when one attends matters in the field."

The old men fell silent and pursued the matter no more. None of them, admittedly, had as much field experience as the 23-year-old Hellsing director. Their place was safely behind their desks.

"We heard a rumor, Integra," said Sir Pembrook, "that there is a new ward at Hellsing, another vampire sired by your servant."

A smirk appeared on Integra's lips. Denial would only brew suspicion. "You heard correct, Sir Pembrook. I assume you are referring to Vlad."

"Are you certain it's a wise move to keep him around? The two Medians you already employee raise enough controversy as it is."

"Controversy amongst who?" Integra said pointedly. "Only those at this table and the top-level staff of this house are aware of their presence at all. Vlad is nothing more than a child and is harmless."

"A child with blood thirst."

She shot a glare at the man, who tried not to flinch. "Until Vlad proves to be troublesome," she said, "he remains a private matter within Hellsing's walls. Even then, _this_ house will deal with him accordingly. The Convention has no reason to worry, nor to spread gossip like a bunch of idle housewives."

"Integra!" Sir Islands snapped. "Do not speak with such disrespect!"

"Disrespect?" Integra pulled a cigar out of her pocket. Walter stepped forward and lit it. "Perhaps the truth is disrespectful at times. However, will you openly deny that the source of your knowledge was, shall we say, word of mouth? From a certain Enrico Maxwell perhaps?"

No one spoke up.

The rest of the meeting went painfully slow. Integra was barely paying attention though she put up a good front to hide it. Thankfully, the men avoided the topic of Vlad. At one point it was asked where Alucard had been since he dropped the boy off at the mansion, and she replied that he was overseas on assignment. No one questioned this. After all, no one else was quite certain how it is that Hellsing operates.

Finally, what seemed like an eternity later, the meeting broke up. Integra sighed in relief as the men filed out. She drank the glass of wine Walter offered her and declined the place of food he brought before heading back to her bedroom, which hasn't seen daylight for the past two and half weeks.

She removed her jacket and took her place next to Vlad once more. He reach out to her as usual and found her hand. A chill went down her spine.

He was cold as ice.

Alucard's skin had always been chilly, but right now the boy felt like an ice cube. Touching him gave her goose bumps on her arms. As she watched, he struggled to move closer to her, trembling from head to toe.

"Walter!" she cried. "Walter!"

The butler dashed to her room, a look of alarm on his face as she offered Vlad's hand for him to feel. Gripping the boy's hand, he gave Integra a look of dismay.

"This isn't good."

"I know that!" she snapped. "What's happening to him?"

"It's a vampiric fever." Moving quickly, Walter pulled up the covers and sheets and wrapped them around the boy. "Just like humans grow warmer and must be cooled down during a fever, vampires grow colder and must be warmed up before their bodies turn numb and crippled from the cold."

"I've never heard of this…"

Walter shook his head as he tucked Vlad in tightly. "It's very uncommon, as vampires are technically not supposed to get sick, but it does happen when their bodies are weak and vulnerable, and he has been weakened significantly, not knowing how to heal after the close exposure to silver." He turned and hurried out of the room. "Keep him warm, I'll go get some more blankets. Maybe a hot water bottle or something."

Head reeling, Integra held Vlad close to her. The boy whimpered her name and buried himself in her embrace, as if he couldn't be close enough to her.

_Because he's cold…_

_And the best way to warm another body is…_

When Walter returned, he found Integra under the covers, her blouse and slacks cast aside as she held Vlad against her bare body. He had stopped trembling now, and was sleeping peacefully once more.

Another three days passed.

TBC


	11. Chapter 11

AUTHOR'S NOTE: well, since this story seems to be my high-hitter, I'll use it to do a little shameless advertising:

This story is slowly wrapping up. Are you sad? Don't be! There's a couple new ones on the way! The first could be up as early as next week. It will feature a pairing I haven't tampered with before (which there is a lot of, since I concentrate so much on AxI). This pair has been used on and off, but no one has done an in-depth story on them… until now!

Ahem… yes, shameless, no? Anyway, thanks for all the reviews! Enjoy this one and review plz!

Chapter 11

Around midnight on the twenty-first day, she had another dream.

It was another castle made of stone, another foreign land, but this time something was different. She looked down and saw herself dressed in a flowing white dress that hung gracefully off her shoulders. Around her waist was a delicate gold chain, linked at the ends by a rose-shaped buckle.

She walked outside the castle and emerged on a gently raised slope. Before her, a few yards away, was a banquet table with two large, decorated chairs. In one sat a familiar figure, tall and handsome, but with a mustache instead of the clean-shaven look she was used to. His usual red coat was also nowhere to be seen. Instead, he was dressed in medieval robes, fit for a king. In fact, that was what he was—a king. Plates of food filled the banquet table: roasted meats, crisp vegetables, fresh bread and pastries… The other chair was empty, and she knew it was waiting for her.

She approached the table and sat in the chair. A jittery servant poured a glass of wine and placed it in front of her, though she was certain the man, little more than a boy, wasn't actually aware of her existence. She looked at her own servant, now a king, sitting next to her. He was eating the food in front of him, very slowly and carefully, as a noble with good manners would. She watched him but off a small piece of meat and put it into his mouth, then chewing slowly before swallowing. This was odd in itself, since she had never seen him eat in her lifetime.

He, however, wasn't looking at her. His eyes were looking straight forward, as if watching a good show while he enjoyed his dinner. His expression was one of amusement. She followed his gaze.

Before them was a forest of stakes and spears. With utter horror, she saw that on each one was at least one human body, impaled through the chest or abdomen. A few were pierced vertically, with stakes emerging through the mouth. There were so many she couldn't begin to count. They extended for acres and acres, thousands upon thousands.

Then she could smell them, the thick aroma of blood and excrement. So strong it was that she had to cover her nose and mouth. They weren't all men, either. Some were young boys, some old and ancient, more than a fair share were women, some with infants impaled on the same stake. Gasping for breath, she saw that some of the people were still alive.

He was watching her, she just noticed. Shakily, she turned to him. The corner of his lip curled slightly into a small smile.

"Are these the ones who disobeyed you?" she asked him, barely able to manage a whisper. "The ones who dared to defy your orders back then?"

He watched her a moment longer, then shook his head. With one hand he gestured at the forest of the impaled. "No, master," he said evenly, "they are the ones who defied _you_."

She looked again. The faces of the victims upon the stakes had changed. Directly in front of her she saw Enrico Maxwell, a thick stake through his chest and flood flowing from his open mouth over his empty eyes, hanging upside-down. Next to him was Alexander Anderson, then every man of the Convention of Twelve who ever questioned her actions, which was all of them. There was the town police captain who made a sexist comment when she arrived on scene, the Median-sympathizer who spat on her while been arrested, and even a socialite woman who "accidentally" spilled wine all over her dress at an event she never wanted to attend in the first place. There they all were, all impaled and placed before her.

Above them all, she saw, on a stake at least ten feet higher than the rest, was her uncle Richard. He was still alive, moaning and writhing but each movement caused him to be impaled further on the raised stake.

"Why is he up there?" she asked.

"Because he committed the greatest crime of all." Her servant took his wine glass and swirled the red liquid inside. It was blood, she saw. Blood gathered from those who ever raised a hand against her. He tilted the glass toward the bodies.

"See them well, master," he said to her. "This is what happens to those who dare to stand in your way, who are foolish enough to question you. This is what happens to them, what they deserve. It is my duty, my accomplishment, and they are my trophies." He raised the wine glass to her.

"Cheers."

She couldn't bring herself to drink the wine in front of her. He didn't push her. Instead, he stood and strolled behind her. With a strangely warm hand, he touched her neck tenderly. With his other hand he gestured to his servants, who came forward and removed the food on the banquet table, along with the white table cloth.

And she saw that it was not a table at all, but a coffin propped on top of a raised platform.

"Why is this here?" she asked him.

Instead of answering directly, he leaned down to her level and caressed her shoulders, whispering in her ear, "here I am born, here I die."

Her eyes snapped open.

Sighing heavily, Integra ran a hand through her matted hair. She had not had a shower in several days and was feeling grimy and uncomfortable. Her mangled hands were in pathetic shape and quite a ghastly sight.

A minute later she noticed that small arm that had been wrapped around her for the last three weeks was gone.

Panic hit her like a flood. She bolted up and groped for him and found his hand, so cold she nearly pulled back. Then she felt his movement, jerking and writhing she could barely hold on.

She pulled the boy close. He was having convulsions.

"Vlad!" she cried. "Alucard! Wake up!"

He continued to convulse and she saw his eyes were open, red pupils staring emptily into space. She tried to hold him still but he jerked so violently that one of his tightened fists struck her square in the eye. Part of her wondered vaguely whether it would be shiner tomorrow.

If there was a tomorrow.

She was sweating, mind reeling frantically. What was there to do but hold him until he grew colder and colder? He was losing control, going…

His words flowed to her ears again.

He was shaking now, trembling uncontrollably as she began to move, wrapping him in a thick blanket and struggling to put on her own clothes. In her worried state, it never occurred to her to wake anyone to help.

Then she carried him. Pip was right, he felt like he barely weighed twenty pounds. She took him to the dungeons, her broken hand aching to hold on to his shaking body. She carried him to the room in which he woke up many weeks ago, and laid him inside his coffin.

Here I am born, here I die…

Was he to die here? Integra wondered, panting. No, it can't be. To him, death had been a second birth. For one who walks the line between life and death, anything is possible. He wanted to be here.

He had calmed now, no longer convulsing. Slowly, lying in the large box, he turned to her and opened his red eyes slightly. In them she saw yearning.

Carefully, with a hint of hesitation, she lowered herself into the coffin, lying next to him. It was a bit tight, but alright overall. She pillowed his head on her arm and stroke him gently.

"Don't die on me, Vlad," she said. "Don't you dare die on me."

He leaned against her, sleepy eyes barely open.

"Do you remember when we first met down here?" she asked softly, holding back tears with all her stubbornness. "Do you remember when I came down here, running from my uncle, so scared and confused?

"Do you remember when I wondered aloud, hoping that there was a knight in shining armor to save me? I was so dumb then, thinking that was what I needed. I got you instead, one who taught me how to be my own knight, how to save myself.

"Do you remember when we used to talk about my father on the balcony at night? You told me I was just like him, but different because I was stronger in some points and weaker than others. You said I was too serious and that would be the death of me, then became huffy when I asked if that had been the death of you.

"You stood by me every time I was sick or wounded, and you never said a word. You probably thought I never noticed you there, but I did. I knew you were worried even though you denied it. I also know it was you who left me a rose on my desk the day I turned sixteen."

He turned in her arms; his eyes still half-open, as if dozing.

"Do you remember the time you accompanied me to the Queen's ball? When I didn't want to go? When that disgusting young man kept trying to seek my attention? You decided to keep him from me by dancing with me. All night. It was you who requested my favorite song, wasn't it? You're a very good dancer for your age."

His gaze was empty. She stroke his face.

"Vlad?"

He looked up at her, suddenly looking very young.

"Do you remember that question you asked me? About my friend Alucard?"

He nodded weakly.

"I didn't answer you before. I should now. We were never lovers, but what we had was special, and much more powerful. We shared a bond that cannot be broken by enemies or obstacles, by sickness or difficult times. I don't even know if life and death can tear us apart. I would not be alive if it weren't for him." She cradled him. "I once said that kind of love has no room in my life, but the truth is, I don't know if how I will keep living without him."

There was a twitch on the corner of the boy's lips, an attempt at a smile. Then he closed his eyes.

"Don't…" she whispered, unable to fight the tears falling from her eyes. "Don't die on me, Alucard! That's an order!"

TBC…


	12. Chapter 12

AUTHOR'S NOTE: ok, I'm updating… this story is almost over and honestly, a few kind words turn me to mush and I felt it was mean of me to hold out on you guys.

MaiMasuta: thanks for the long review. I really appreciate everything you said. And to answer your question, yea I made that up. Needed a space filler. I make lots of things up when I need space fillers.

CNO: I know I didn't think the fever thing out. I'm not very technical. Glad you like the story though.

Dekejis: I'm truly honored to be your first (or one of your first) review.

This story has gotten unbelievable responses and it means to much to me. I can't believe the number of people who posted saying stuff like "I didn't like so-and-so until your stuff" or "I never review but I just had to" or "you convinced me of so-and-so", etc etc. I've said before that I'm a sucker for reviews, but this is more than I ever expected. kisses to you all. Also, um, reviews fuel my guilt. Which is why this one is up so quickly…

Enjoy the story!

Oh yea, and I have to advertise once again, that there's a new story coming. I'm half way through writing it and it's NOT AxI, though the couple is so cute I just can't stay away.

Chapter 12

When Integra opened her eyes, the world was hazy. She blinked several times before realizing the room was almost completely dark and that whatever she was lying in there was no room to stretch. Carefully, she maneuvered herself onto her back and sat up, wincing at the pain in her broken hand.

Blood-red eyes stared down at her, she started in surprise.

"Did you sleep well, Integra?"

A million emotions flooded her.

At her side stood her servant, clad in red, dark hair hanging loosely over his face. Before her stunned eyes, he reached up and brushed it aside nonchalantly with his gloved hand. She couldn't find a single word and could only manage a gurgling sound. Her first impulse was to reach up, touch his face, and wrap her arms around him to make sure he was real.

"Was the little lady frightened by thunder again?"

As if nothing had happened. Integra felt a twitch of annoyance below her left eye. Alucard let his eyes wander over her body.

"Not that I don't enjoy you curling up in my coffin every now and then," he continued. "In fact, I believe I've extended the offer numerous times. And also, though I would love to keep standing here and take advantage of it"—he pointed at her chest—"your blouse is undone."

He was right. Heat rose to Integra's face as she looked down and saw her blouse open nearly to her midriff, allowing the vampire a very good look at her bra and belly. Gritting her teeth, she pushed herself out of the coffin and nearly fell as her stiff legs stumbled on its edge. Alucard caught her arm.

"Where are you going, master? It's barely dawn. If you wish to, you are more than welcome to stay a few more hours." He grinned slyly. "After all, you did invite yourself to my bed."

_He doesn't remember._

She pushed him aside, but not before he noticed her bandaged hand.

"What happened to your hand, master?"

"None of your business," she snapped, and stormed out of the dungeons.

"No need to be embarrassed, Integra," he called after her. "You are welcome here any time. Next time I shall have wine ready."

Rubbing her temples, Integra ascended the mansion's stairs. He was right, dawn was just breaking. There was no need to disturb anyone, now that everything's back to, well, normal. She sighed and headed to her private washroom.

Once inside, she drew a tubful of steaming water, undressed, and lowered herself inside, careful to keep her hands dry. The water felt so soothing against her skin that she soon fell asleep, a smile on her lips.

_At least he followed orders…_

oOo

Alucard stretched and wondered why his limps felt so numb. He drew his gun and practiced a few maneuvers, then changed his form a few times. Nothing's felt out of place. He stepped out of his chambers. It was too early to go to bed.

The image of Integra filled his mind. Thinking on it, he suddenly realized how tired and thin she looked, lying in his coffin. Her right hand was broken and her left was covered in odd marks that looked suspiciously like cuts. Her clothing was in shambles, as if she pulled them on in a hurry.

Maybe she had a nightmare. He shrugged. He understood her nightmares well. Though they were no match for his own, they were much more than a normal human could handle. Once or twice when she was fifteen and first started having them, she screamed in her sleep and he would go to her and sooth her without waking her up. She probably didn't remember. Dreams like that were to be expected for one who's had a life like hers.

Someone was watching him. He looked up to see Seras Victoria, Harkonnen in her arm, a few feet away. Her look was one of astonishment.

"What's wrong with you?" he growled at her. "Did the ghouls finally get your tongue?"

"M-master!" she stammered. "You're alright!"

Alucard groaned. The stupid girl was babbling nonsense again. "Of course! Why wouldn't I be?"

"Well, I… uh…" Seras scratched her head, then held her tongue and ducked into her own room. Before Alucard could ask her anything else, Pip came down the dungeon stairs.

"Yo, police girl!" he was yelling. "Before you go to sleep, I need…" he stopped in his tracks. "Mornin' Mr. Alucard," he said, tilting his hat. "Good to see you up and about."

This, too, made no sense. But once again, before he could ask the Wild Geese captain to clarify, the captain chased after Seras, muttering something about hot glue and a statue on the front lawn.

His head ached, which was unusual. He also didn't feel like sleeping, even though the sun was already rising. Perhaps he could pester his old war buddy before bed. With that thought, Alucard headed upstairs.

Walter wasn't anywhere to be found. At last, after twenty minutes of searching and more strange words from the rising troops, he found the butler knocking on Integra's door. As he approached, the old man nearly dropped the armful of stuff he was carrying, which, strangely, consisted mostly of gauze and towels.

"Alucard!" the butler exclaimed, completely ignoring the pile of things now piled at his feet. "Thank god…" he said, then louder: "thank god!"

Everyone's lost their mind was Alucard's first thought as Walter strode forward in two wide steps and examined his clothing, as if to make sure they were real. He batted the butler's hand away.

"What's wrong with you?" he asked impatiently. "For that matter, what's wrong with everyone? I leave for two days and the whole place goes mad."

"Two…" Walter stopped. He studied Alucard up and down. "Two days huh?" he said slowly. "Well, perhaps you should inquire Integra on the matter."

"From what I see, she's a bit out of sorts, too. Seems she slept in my coffin last night."

"Did she now?" Walter nodded knowingly. "Well, I'm sure she had her reasons."

"She stormed out when I tried to ask."

"Ask?"

"In my own way."

The butler sighed. "You never change. But I suppose I should expect that." He bent and gathered up the things at his feet. "I guess I don't need these anymore."

"What were they for?"

Walter smiled. "Don't worry about that. Go to bed. You and Integra can talk tonight."

"Talk about what?"

But the butler was already gone. Shrugging, Alucard returned to the dungeons. The police girl was yelling at the French man again, nothing new. He laid down in his coffin and closed his eyes.

Half a minute later, he sat back up.

UP NEXT… THE TRUTH REVEALED!


	13. Chapter 13

AUTHOR'S NOTE: I love you all so much! This is the very last chapter, and to celebrate my first story ever to come close to 200 reviews and over 40 alerts, I have put up my new story, Before It All, featuring Young Walter and Girlycard from Dawn. Give it a read! This has been amazing and thank you for all the support and patience.

Enjoy the last chapter and the AxIness!

Chapter 13

Integra dried her hair with a towel and put cool oil on her skin. She put on fresh, clean clothing and ointment on the cuts on her left hand. She wished she could have her right hand was better but that took time. For now, she was feeling better than she had in months.

Looking at herself in the mirror, she saw a growing bruise under her right eye the size of a quarter, where Alucard had struck her the night before. It was sensitive to touch but could be hidden with makeup, better than the black eye she had expected to find. She cleaned her glasses and exited the washroom.

Alucard sat on her bed.

Surprised, Integra stopped in her tracks. The vampire stood and approached her, his eyes downcast on her hands. She regarded him in wonderment as he picked up her hands, caressed them, and kissed them, one followed by the other.

"How could you hurt them, master?" he said. "Your beautiful hands, for the likes of me?"

Sneering, she pulled out of his grasp. "So you remember."

"Enough." His eyes followed her as she walked past him to her jacket laying on a chair by the bed. "How long?"

"Three weeks."

"You laid by my side…"

"For twenty-one days exactly." She shook the dust out of her jacket and put it on. "All part of duty, as you'd put it."

Strong arms wrapped around her from behind. Startled, Integra didn't struggle. She let him hold her in silence.

"Are you going to get emotional about it?" she asked, using the smug tone he had taken in the dungeons. "Your well-being is my responsibility. I did what I had to."

"I'm sorry," he whispered in her ear.

"For what?"

"For causing you trouble."

"I've had more trouble than that."

"My only regret is not remembering the taste of your blood."

She chuckled. "I'm afraid that offer no longer stands."

He was smiling, she knew it. "That's alright."

"You can let go now," she said. "Gratitude accepted."

He did. She faced him. For a while they stayed that way, looking at each other with even gazes. Then he asked, "so what now?"

"Business as usual," she said, straightening her jacket. "Though I wouldn't mind knowing why the ordeal took place, if you are able to explain it."

Alucard looked away. "It's not easy to explain."

"So you do know."

"Somewhat," he nodded. "It was a bit embarrassing to have you see my worst dream."

"Was it real?"

"A long time ago, yes."

"Seemed like a bad spot you were in, a painful childhood."

"Pain fades."

"So why take the form that remembers it so well?"

Alucard smiled at her. It was a sad smile, one she never imagined seeing on him in her wildest dreams. "Pain overrides pain," he told her. "Sometimes opening up an old wound helps deal with the new one."

There was a tug at her heart. "What has hurt you so badly?"

"Do you remember what you said to me last night, Integra?"

"I said a lot of things."

"You said even though there is no room in your life for love…"

"…that I don't know how I will live without you." It was her turn to look away, trying to hide her blush. "Yes, I do remember."

"Did you mean it?"

She sighed. "Is there a point to this?"

"Yes."

"Fine, I did." Integra crossed her arms in exasperation. "I mean, I do. So what?"

"I just wanted to make sure," said her servant, "that the feeling was mutual. That night, I returned from a mission, and overheard you and Walter carrying on a certain conversation, and for the first time in my life since the dream you saw, I was afraid."

She met his eyes slowly. "You were afraid that I don't…"

"…see me as I see you."

"How do you see me?"

"If you can't tell," Alucard chuckled, "then I don't see how me telling you would help."

Integra opened her mouth, found no words, and closed it again. They stood in silence once more. Finally, Alucard bowed.

"I must retire for the day, master," he said formally, "if there is nothing else. I'm sure I'm not been presumptuous to assume that I am no longer invited in your bedroom."

Integra paused. "That is correct," she said, then added, "but if you have a bad dream, I'll consider making an exception."

THE END


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